lobn  C,  Conway 


fP!pg!Sd 

,.'" . M\  .mmill 

[corner— «« _ 

to  fiNp^Seivvjale 


Arx^k.  '»Keiv.cyou  le&ve. 
e>1w.  t'  ^  ^  ^ 


DUKE 

UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON 


AND 


HIS  TIMES. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2018  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/louisnapoleonhis01depu 


ENGIMVEI),  jgrJmgsaM.  THE  OHIGJNAL  nr  LXFOSSE.  OCT "  J64G. 


i©  M  1 1  MMlli  ®  W  ©©'MPMftg, 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON 

n 

AND 

HIS  TIMES:  ’ 

WITH 

NOTICES  OF  HIS  WHITINGS; 


A  MEMOIR  OF  THE 


BONAPARTE  FAMILY 


AND  A  SKETCH  OF  FRENCH  HISTORY 


TO  THE  EMPIRE,  1853. 


BY  HENRY  W.  D_E  PUY, 

AUTHOR  OF  “KOSSUTH  AND  HIS  GENERALS,”  “ETHAN  ALLEN, 


WITII  PORTRAITS. 


BUFFALO: 

PHINNEY  &  CO.,  188  MAIN  STREET. 


1855. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  bj 
PHINNEY  &  CO. 

In  the  Clerk’s  office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Northern  District 
of  New  York. 


Stereotjpoc!  by 
BEADLE  <fc  BROTHER* 


BUFFALO. 


9  23-/44 

NZtLe 

PREFACE.  Tfr  -  bP 

There  is  not,  perhaps,  in  the  records  of  the  world,  so  ex¬ 
traordinary  a  family  history  as  that  of  the  Bonapartes.  With 
Napoleon  at  their  head,  they  suddenly  sprang  forward  from 
the  profoundest  obscurity,  seized  the  mightiest  scepters  of 
Europe,  placed  themselves  upon  its  most  ancient  thrones,  and 
swayed  the  destinies  of  almost  the  entire  civilized  world.  After 
a  few  brief  years  of  power,  their  fortunes  ebbed,  even  more 
rapidly  than  they  had  risen,  and  although  the  Bonapartes  had 
everywhere  formed  alliances,  always  illustrious  and  brilliant,  and 
sometimes  royal,  and  were  still  conspicuous  in  nearly  every  court 
on  the  continent  of  Europe,  they  appeared  to  be  gradually 
receding  to  the  powerlessuess  and  obscurity  in  which  they 
had  originated.  But  again,  in  the  person  of  Louis  Napoleon 
Bonaparte,  the  nephew  and  heir  of  the  great  Emperor,  they 
are  attracting  the  attention  of  the  world,  and  seem  destined 
yet  to  exercise  a  potential  influence  —  whether  for  good  or  for 
evil  —  over  the  destinies  of  Europe. 

The  purpose  of  the  following  pages  has  been  to  furnish,  in 
an  accessible  and  convenient  form,  a  memoir  of  the  Bonaparte 
family  from  the  dawn  of  their  celebrity  to  the  present  time, 
and  to  accompany  it  with  a  sketch  of  French  history,  and 
biographical  notices  of  the  most  distinguished  persons  who 
have  participated  in  the  administration  of  French  affairs, 


XI 


PREFACE. 


during  the  same  period.  No  proper  effort  has  been  spared  in 
the  execution  of  this  design,  and  especial  pains  have  been  taken 
to  collect  full  and  authentic  information  in  regard  to  that  mem¬ 
ber  of  the  Bonaparte  family  whose  name  gives  this  volume  it* 
title,  and  whose  connection  with  great  national  events  confet» 
additional  interest  upon  the  details  of  his  personal  history. 

Among  the  authorities  consulted  in  the  preparation  of  this 
work  are  the  following  —  The  Prisoner  of  Ham;  Memes’  Life  of 
Josephine;  The  Court  and  Camp  of  Bonaparte;  Lockhart’s  Life 
of  Napoleon;  Redhead’s  History  of  French  Revolutions;  Life 
and  Works  of  Louis  Napoleon;  Lord  Holland's  Foreign  Reminis¬ 
cences;  Louis  Blanc’s  History  of  Ten  Years;  Lamartine’s  Res¬ 
toration  of  Monarchy  in  France;  Corkran’s  History  of  the 
Constituent  Assembly  of  France;  Chambers’  Miscellany;  Cham¬ 
bers’  Papers  for  the  People;  Wikoff’s  Louis  Napoleon;  Thiers’ 
History  of  the  French  Revolution  ;  Lamartine’s  Three  Months 
_n  Power;  Coopers’  Gleanings  in  Europe;  Seotts’  Life  of  Na¬ 
poleon;  The  London  Times;  The  American  Naval  Magazine; 
and  many  of  the  English  Reviews  and  Magazines.  The  lan¬ 
guage  of  these  has  been  freely  adopted  in  numerous  instances  — 
there  having  been  no  ambition,  in  the  preparation  of  the 
following  pages,  to  make  an  entirely  original  work. 

P.  S.  The  absence  and  engagements  of  the  author,  as  private 
secretary  to  Governor  Seymour  of  New  York,  have  obliged  the 
publishers  to  commit  to  another  pen,  the  continuation  of  this 
work  from  page  403. 

Buffalo,  May,  1853. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 

Characteristics  of  Revolutions — The  Frencli  Revolution  of  1798 — 

The  Power  of  Opinion — Profligacy  of  the  French  Court  previous 
to  the  Revolution — the  Catholic  Priesthood — Debauchees  at  the 
Confessional — The  Palais  Royal — The  Catholic  Church — Infi¬ 
delity — Oppressive  Laws — Maladministration  of  Justice — Indus¬ 
try  Paralyzed — The  Bastile — Revolt  of  the  People — Crimes  and 
Sufferings  during  the  Revolution — The  Reign  of  Terror — The 
French  Character— Napoleon  Bonaparte — His  Influence  over 
European  Affairs — Parents  of  Bonaparte — Varying  Fortunes  of 
the  Bonaparte  Family — Early  History  of  the  Bonapartes — They 
are  driven  from  Corsica — Arrest  of  Napoleon — His  Poverty — He 
Contemplates  Suicide — His  Dreams  of  Oriental  Empire — His 
Prompt  Suppression  of  an  Insurrection  in  Paris — The  Boy  and 
the  Sword — Josephine — Her  Romantic  History — Her  Opinion 
of  Napoleon — He  Marries  Her — Character  of  Josephine — Bona¬ 
parte  is  Appointed  to  the  Command  of  the  Army  in  Italy — His 
Extraordinary  Successes — His  Expedition  to  Egypt — His  Ambi¬ 
tion — The  First  Consul — Marengo — Eugene  and  Hortense — The 
Emperor — Marriage  of  Louis  Bonaparte  and  Hortense — Letter 
from  Josephine  to  Hortense — Napoleon  the  Master  of  Europe  — 

He  Distributes  Crowns  among  his  Brothers  and  Sisters — His 
Divorce — His  Marriage  with  Maria  Louisa — Birth  of  the  King 
of  Rome — Invasion  of  Russia — Disasters — Elba — Waterloo — 
Children  of  Louis  Bonaparte  and  Hortense — Birth  of  Louis 
Napoleon — Napoleon  Charles — Death  of  Napoleon  Charles — 
Anecdotes — Louis  Napoleon  and  the  Emperor — Presentiment  for 
Presentiment — The  Exiles, . 13 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

RESTORATION  OFjTHE  BOURBONS. 

Fontainbleau — Infidelity  and  Immorality — Francis  I.  and  the  Wise 
Fool — The  Dying  King  and  the  Courtiers — Adventure  of  Francis 
I. — Diana  of  Poitiers  and  the  Duchess  d’  Etampes — Catherine 
de  Medicis — Gabrielle  d’  Estrees — Hemy  IV. — Louis|XIV. — His 
Queen  and  his  Mistresses — Vice  and  Devotion — The  Lady  Gam¬ 
blers — Madame  de  Maintenon — The  Actress  and  Her  Lover  in 
Lent — Death  of  Louis  XIV. — His  Manner  of  Converting  the 
Huguenots — Louis  XV. — His  Marriage  with  Marie  Leczinska — 
A  Prince  and  his  Tutor — Anecdotes  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy — 
Pius  VII. — Josephine  at  Fontainbleau — Napoleon  and  Maria 
Louisa — Napoleon  and  Pius  VII. — “Comedian  ” — “  Tragedian  ” 

• — Abdication  of  Napoleon — Parting  of  Napoleon  with  the  Im¬ 
perial  Guard — The  King’s  Cabinet — Napoleon’s  Civil  Adminis¬ 
tration — His  Character — The  Conscription — War  and  its  Crimes 
and  Miseries — The  Passion  for  War — What  a  Declaration  of 
War  really  is — Review  of  Bonaparte’s  Career — The  Bourbons — 
Louis  XVIII. — His  Escape  from  France— He  Seeks  an  Asylum 
in  England — The  Son  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette — His 
Imprisonment  and  Death — Louis  XVIII.  placed  upon  the 
French  Throne  by  the  Allied  Powers — His  Policy — “Nothing 
Learned,  Nothing  Forgotten” — Reign  of  Louis  XVIII. — His 
Death — Charles  X. — His  Gallantries — Madame  Polastron,  his 
Mistress — Coronation  of  Charles  X. — His  Desire  to  Re-establish 
Despotism — His  Unpopularity — The  Royal  Family — The  Soli¬ 
tary  Hurrah — Prince  Polignac — Expedition  against  Algiers — 
Discontent  of  the  People — Character  of  Charles  X. — Another 
Revolution — The  Pavements  of  Paris  again  Bathed  with  Blood — 
Infatuation  of  Charles  X. — Queen  Hortense — Her  Sons — Louis 
Napoleon, . 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  REIGN  OF  LOUIS  PHILIPPE. 


68 


The  Three  Days  of  July — Incidents — Victoiy  of  the  People — De¬ 
position  of  Charles  X. — The  Duke  of  Orleans — Exile  of  Charles 


CONTENTS. 


ix 


X. — Louis  Philippe  Chosen  King — Parentage  of  Louis  Philippe 
— Character  of  his  Father — Madame  de  Genlis — Education  of 
Louis  Philippe — He  Joins  the  Army — Anecdotes — Decapitation 
of  Louis  Philippe’s  Father — Exile — Louis  Philippe  in  Switzer¬ 
land — He  Becomes  a  Teacher — He  Proposes  to  Visit  the  U nited 
States — His  Journey  through  Norway  and  Sweden — He  Lands 
at  Philadelphia — Visits  Washington — Proceeds  to  the  West — His 
Adventure  with  the  Indians — He  Visits  Niagara  Falls — Returns 
to  Philadelphia — Poverty — The  Rejected  Lover — The  Amateur 
Surgeon — Return  to  Europe — Death  of  the  Duke  of  Montpensier 
— Marriage  of  Louis  Philippe — His  Effort  to  Engage  in  the  Eu¬ 
ropean  Revolutions — His  Interview  with  Danton — Louis  Phil¬ 
ippe  again  in  France — Returns  to  Neuilly — Called  to  the 
Throne  of  France — The  Duchess  de  Berri— Administration  of 
Louis  Philippe — Peace  Sentiments — Family  of  Louis  Philippe — 

The  Princess  Adelaide — Her  Death — Children  of  Louis  Philippe 
— The  Duke  of  Orleans — His  Marriage — The  Duke  of  Nemours — 

The  Duke  of  Montpensier — Louisa  Marie — Guizot — Anecdote — ■ 
Guizot’s  Marriage — His  Literary  Labors — His  Political  Fortunes 
— His  Personal  Appearance — Thiers — His  Early  History — Thiers 
as  a  Legislator — His  Appearance — His  Oratory — The  War  in 
Algiers — Abd-el-Kader — How  the  French  Exterminated  the 
Arabs — Cost  of  the  War  in  Algiers — Anecdotes — The  Emir  and 
the  Bishop, . 121 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 

Q»  »en  Hortense — Her  Sons  in  the  Italian  Revolution — Hortense 
and  Louis  Napoleon  in  Paris — Louis  Napoleon  and  the  Poles — 
His  Generosity — His  Work  on  the  Swiss  Confederacy — He  De¬ 
clines  the  Hand  of  the  Queen  of  Portugal — His  Correspondence 
with  Lafayette — His  Plans  for  Revolutionizing  France — His  In¬ 
terview  with  French  Officers — Madame  Gordon — Colonel  Vau- 
drey — Persigny — Louis  Napoleon  Enters  Strasbourg — Letter  to 
his  Mother — Speech  to  the  Soldiers — Failure — Imprisonment — 
Defense — Letter  to  Odilon  Barrot — Louis  Napoleon  is  sent  to 
America — Consternation  of  Louis  Philippe — Trial  of  Louis  Na¬ 
poleon’*  Accomplices — Lettertof  Queen  Hortense — Her  Death — 


X 


CO  NTENT3. 


Louis  Napoleon  Leaves  Switzerland — Goes  to  England — Death 
of  Charles  X. — Death  of  the  Duke  d’  Angouleme— Removal  of 
the  Ashes  of  Napoleon  from  St,  Helena  to  Paris — Louis  Na¬ 
poleon  at  Boulogne — His  Defeat — His  Attempt  to  Escape — His 
Arrest — His  Trial — His  Imprisonment — His  Address  to  the  Re¬ 
mains  of  the  Emperor — The  Fortress  of  Ham — The  Constable’s 
Tower — The  Capuchin  Friar — A  Lover’s  Revenge — Louis  Na¬ 
poleon’s  Literary  Pursuits — His  Works — The  Nicaraugua  Canal — 
Illness  of  Louis  Napoleon’s  Father — Escape  of  Louis  Napoleon 
— Dr.  Conneau — Death  of  the  Count  of  St.  Leu, . 179 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  REVOLUTION  OF  1848. 

Review  of  Louis  Philippe’s  Reign— His  Purchase  of  Adherents — • 
Condition  of  the  Country — Electoral  Reform — Reform  Banquets 
— The  King’s  Speech — Proposed  Banquet  in  Paris — Its  Suppres¬ 
sion — Excitement  of  the  People — The  Barricades — Battles — The 
Tricolor  Victorious — Louis  Philippe’s  Abdication — His  Escape — 

The  Impromptu  Monarch — The  Duchess  of  Orleans — The  Cham¬ 
ber  of  Deputies — The  Provisional  Government — Its  Proclama¬ 
tion— Lamartine — His  Early  Life — The  Sermon — Lamartine  in 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies — Lamartine’s  Associates — Louis  Phil¬ 
ippe  in  Exile — His  Character  and  Social  Qualities — His  Death — 

The  National  Assembly — The  Provisional  Government  Resign 
their  Authority  into  the  Hands  of  the  People’s  Representatives — 

The  June  Insurrections — General  Cavaignac — Louis  Napoleon — 

His  Election  to  the  National  Assembly — His  Declinature — His 
Re-election — He  enters  the  National  Assembly — He  becomes  a 
Candidate  for  the  Presidency — His  Addresses  to  the  Nation — 
Character  and  Services  of  General  Cavaignac — The  Presidential 
Candidates — Election  of  Louis  Napoleon, . . . 248 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  BONAPARTE  FAMILY. 

Instability  of  the  French  Government — Changing  Dynasties — Bona¬ 
parte  Family — Maria  Louisa — HertAbandoument  of  Napoleon  in 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


his  Adversity — Count  of  Niepperg — The  Duchy  of  Parma — Ex¬ 
travagance  of  .V! aria  Louisa — Parmesan  Scandals — Favorites  of 
Maria  Louisa — The  Son  of  Bonaparte — Created  Duke  of  Reich- 
stadt — His  Character — His  Death — Joseph  Bonaparte — His  Early 
Career — He  declines  the  Crown  of  Lombardy — Becomes  King 
of  Naples — Afterward  accepts  the  Crown  of  Spain — Retires  to 
the  United  States — Declines  the  Crown  of  Mexico — Returns  to 
Europe — His  Death — Lucien  Bonaparte — His  Legislative  Career 
— Quarrel  with  Napoleon — Refuses  to  bo  Placed  on  the  Spanish 
Throne — His  Etruscan  Farm — His  Death — His  Children — Louis 
Bonaparte — King  of  Holland — His  Philanthropy — His  Literary 
Works — Jerome  Bonaparte — His  American  Wife — King  of  West¬ 
phalia — His  Dissipation — His  Queen — Eliza  Bonaparte — Pauline 
Bonaparte — Her  Character — Anecdotes — Caroline  Bonaparte — 
Her  Love  of  Sway — Her  Children — The  Mother  of  Bonaparte — 
Anecdote — Eugene  Beauharnais — The  Revolution  of  1848 — Louis 
Napoleon, . . . 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  “COUP  D'  ETAT  AND  EMPIRE.” 

THE  “COUP  D’  ETAT  AND  EMPIRE.” 

The  National  Will — Louis  Napoleon’s  First  Message — The  Consti¬ 
tution  of  France — The  Seeds  of  Dissension — Louis  Napoleon  at 
Ham — Parties  in  the  Assembly — Acts  of  the  Assembly — Speech 
of  Louis  Napoleon — French  Intervention  in  Rome — Pius  IX. — 
His  Early  Histoiy — His  Elevation  to  the  Pontificate — His  Ef¬ 
forts  at  Reform — Anecdote — The  Pope  and  the  Revolution — The 
Popes  Flight  from  Rome — His  Return — Agitation  of  France — 
Attitude  of  the  President — The  Suffrage  Question — Increasing 
Excitement — The  “  Coup  d’  Etat” — Appeal  to  the  People — Ar¬ 
rest  of  General  Changarnier — Of  General  Cavaignac — Of  General 
Lamoriciere — Of  Other  Members  of  the  Assembly — Thiers — De¬ 
cree  of  the  Assembly — The  Usurpation  Resisted — Success  of 
Louis  Napoleon — The  Elections — The  Inauguration  of  the  Pre¬ 
sident — The  New  Constitution — Arrests — Deportation  of  Politi¬ 
cal  Offenders — Destruction  of  the  Freedom  of  the  Press— 


298 


xii 


CONTENTS. 


Confiscation  of  the  Orleans  Estates — The  Duchess  of  Orleans 
— Louis  Napoleon’s  Self-vindication — Distribution  of  Medals 
among  the  Military  Officers — Oath  of  Allegiance — General  La- 
moriciere — Arago,  the  Astronomer — Independent  Action  of  the 
Courts  —  Adjournment  of  the  Assembly  and  Senate  —  Presi¬ 
dent’^  Journey  to  Strasbourg  —  Matrimonial  Projects  —  Tour 
through  the  Southern  Departments  —  Significant  Speeches  at 
Lyons  and  Bordeaux — Reception  at  Paris — Announcement  of 
the  Empire  to  the  Senate — “  Senatus  Consultum  ” — The  Popu¬ 
lar  Vote — Inaugural  Address — The  Empress — Speech  on  the 
Marriage — Marriage  Ceremony — Imperial  Clemency — Prosper¬ 
ity  of  the  Country — Acquiescence  of  the  People — Rigor  of  the 
Emperor’s  Rule — Cavaignac — Conclusion, . 


357 


JLoqis  Kqpoieoi)  ^9  i)i3  lityes. 


CHAPTER  I. 

NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 

The  progress  of  the  human  mind,  and  of  human  so¬ 
ciety,  is  seldom  marked  by  regular  and  successive  steps. 
At  some  periods,  civilization  appears  to  he  stationary  ; 
at  others,  even  to  retrograde  ;  at  others  again,  to  spring 
forward  with  rapid,  gigantic,  and  almost  convulsive 
strides.  This  irregularity  of  advance  is,  doubtless,  os¬ 
tensible  rather  than  actual.  Preparations  are  gradu¬ 
ally  made,  ideas  slowly  matured,  and  the  foundations 
of  the  future  superstructure  laid  with  secret  and  patient 
industry.  Rut  these  subterranean  workings  are  for 
the  most  part  unnoticed,  till,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  a 
rich  harvest  of  consecpiences  is  developed  with  appa¬ 
rent  suddenness,  from  causes  which  have  been  accumu¬ 
lating  in  silence  for  many  years. 

The  fall  of  the  Roman  empire  constituted  one  of 
these  great  eras.  It  was  the  demarkation  between  the 
old  world  and  the  new.  From  that  period,  society  and 
nations  alike  assumed  a  new  aspect,  and  the  world 
commenced  a  new  career.  It  was  the  moral  deluge, 
upon  the  abatement  of  which  a  new  condition  of 


u 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  niS  TIMES. 


society,  new  systems  of  government,  and  new  methods 
of  thought  sprung  up. 

The  Reformation  effected  another  mighty  change. 
It  introduced  pure  religion  into  the  realm  of  almost 
pagan  superstition,  civil  liberty  into  the  empire  of 
tyranny,  and  science  into  the  depths  of  national  igno¬ 
rance.  One  of  its  immediate  and  most  momentous 
consequences  was  the  struggle  for  constitutional  rights, 
in  England,  in  the  seventeenth  century — a  struggle  in 
which  civil  liberty  and  religious  freedom  and  tolerance 
won  their  most  substantial  victory. 

The  great  rebellion  against  feudal  and  mental  op¬ 
pression  in  France,  which  broke  forth  publicly  in  1789, 
and  resulted  in  the  overthrow  of  the  French  throne,  is 
among  these  memorable  transitions,  and  is  deeply  in¬ 
teresting  to  the  present  generation,  being  nearest  to  our 
own  days,  most  extraordinary  in  its  character,  and  far- 
spreading  in  its  consequences.  No  period  in  history 
is  more  fertile  in  attractions  —  none  presents  more 
scenes  of  thrilling  interest,  more  subtle  problems  of 
character,  more  intricate  intrigues,  more  truths  of  po¬ 
litical  philosophy,  or 'more  lessons  of  profound  wisdom. 
dSTo  period  is  richer  in  materials  for  the  contemplation 
of  the  statesman,  the  moralist  or  the  Christian. 

The  fall  of  the  empires  of  the  ancient  world,  exhib¬ 
iting  scenes  of  extensive  suffering  in  their  progress, 
and  melancholy  calamity  in  their  consummation,  bore 
a  far  different  character.  They  all  perished  by  in¬ 
vasion.  The  foreign  sword,  of  all  the  instruments  of 
ruin  the  most  obvious,  rude  and  simple,  struck  the  dia¬ 
dem  from  brows  already  sinking  under  the  weight  of 
sovereignty,  and  the  remains  of  empires  mouldered 
away  by  the  course  of  nature. 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION. 


15 


But  the  French  monarchy  was  unassailed  by  any 
external  violence.  In  the  midst  of  what  seemed  to  the 
eyes  of  Europe  the  full  vigor  of  life,  it  perished  in  rapid 
agonies,  for  which  the  public  experience  had  no-  rem¬ 
edy,  and  human  annals  scarcely  a  name.  Like  one 
of  those  bodies  whose  flesh  and  blood  turn  into  fire,  it 
consumed  with  internal  combustion,  and  at  length, 
after  an  interval  of  indescribable  torture,  sunk  in  ashes, 
and  was  no  more. 

This  singular  result  was  effected  by  the  agency  of  a 
new  power — one  which  must  inevitably  prove  stronger 
than  the  fortresses  or  armed  legions  of  despots — the 
Power  of  Opinion  !  In  the  old  trials  of  empire,  all  the 
motives  of  action  were  confined  to  the  higher  ranks. 
Wars  were  undertaken  by  ambitious  princes  to  extend 
their  conquests,  or  they  were  occasioned  by  the  rivalry 
of  aspirants  to  sovereignty.  Dynasties  might  be 
changed,  but  the  institutions  and  the  laws  of  the  state, 
the  habits  and  condition  of  the  masses  of  the  people, 
remained  the  same.  Whatever  might  be  the  result,  the 
calamities  of  war  fell  with  equal  weight  upon  them, 
while  they  never  experienced  its  benefits.  The  French 
Revolution  was  of  a  different  character.  It  was  a 
warfare  between  the  People  and  the  Sovereign — a  re¬ 
bellion  against  Privilege  and  for  Equality.  It  was  not 
a  conflict  to  decide  who  should  be  recognized  as  the 
oppressor  of  the  people,  but  it  was  a  warfare  against 
Oppression  itself. 

Perhaps  the  world  never  saw,  since  the  days  of  Sar- 
danapalus,  a  court  so  corrupt,  a  nobility  so  profligate, 
and  a  state  of  society  so  utterly  contemptuous  of  even 
the  decent  affectation  of  virtue,  as  existed  in  France 


16 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


from  the  reign  of  Louis  XIY.  until  the  overthrow  of 
Louis  XYI.  A  succession  of  dissolute  women  ruled 
the  king  and  controlled  the  deliberations  of  the  cabi¬ 
net  ;  lower  life  was  a  sink  of  corruption  ;  the  whole  a 
romance  of  the  most  scandalous  order. 

Yice  may  have  existed  to  a  high  degree  of  crimi¬ 
nality  in  other  lands  ;  but  in  no  other  country  of  Eu¬ 
rope,  or  of  the  earth,  was  vice  ever  so  public,  so  osten¬ 
tatiously  forced  upon  the  eyes  of  men,  so  completely 
formed  into  an  established  and  essential  portion  of 
fashionable  and  courtly  life. 

It  was  a  matter  of  course  that  the  king  of  France 
should  have  a  mistress !  She  was  as  much  a  part  of 
the  royal  establishment  as  a  prime  minister  was  of  the 
royal  councils,  and  not  unfrequently,  if  not  always,  her 
power  was  greater  and  more  arbitrarily  exercised  than 
that  of  this  high  officer.  And,  as  if  for  the  purpose 
of  offering  a  still  more  contemptuous  defiance  to  the 
common  decencies  of  life,  it  often  happened  that  the 
mistress  wras  a  married  woman! 

Yet  in  that  country  the  whole  ritual  of  Popery  was 
performed  with  scrupulous  exactness.  A  numerous 
and  powerful  priesthood  filled  France ;  and  the  cere¬ 
monials  of  the  national  religion  were  performed  con¬ 
tinually  before  the  court,  with  the  most  rigid  formality. 

The  king  had  his  confessor,  and  the  mistress  inva¬ 
riably  had  hers.  The  nobles  attended  the  royal  chapel, 
and  had  their  confessors.  The  confessional  was  never 
without  royal  and  noble  solicitors  of  monthly,  or,  at 
the  furthest,  quarterly  absolution.  Still,  from  the 
whole  body  of  ecclesiastics,  France  heard  few  remon¬ 
strance  against  these  public  abominations.  Their  ser- 


VICES  OF  THE  NOBILITY. 


17 


mons,  few  and  feeble,  sometimes  dealaimed  on  the 
vices  of  the  beggars  of  Paris,  or  the  riots  among  the 
peasantry  ;  but  no  sense  of  scriptural  responsibility, 
and  no  natural  feeling  of  duty,  often  ventured  to  depre¬ 
cate  the  vices  of  the  nobles  or  the  shameless  and  revolt¬ 
ing  debauchery  of  the  throne. 

Around  the  king  was  clustered  a  crowd  of  venal  no¬ 
bles,  who  contended  for  his  favors  with  adulation,  and 
breathed  only  in  the  sunshine  of  his  smiles.  Wholly 
destitute  of  independence  of  spirit,  these  nobles  were 
licentious  and  arrogant,  battening  without  shame  on 
the  spoils  of  the  people,  and  priding  themselves  on 
the  lineages  they  disgraced. 

The  Palais  Royal  was  for  a  long  time  the  seat  of  the 
revolting  impurities  of  the  most  impure  court  in  Eu¬ 
rope.  Built  by  a  prelate  on  whose  head  rested  the  in¬ 
nocent  blood  of  the  Huguenots,  and  probably  built  out 
of  their  spoils,  it  was  destined,  in  the  possession  of 
Philip  Egalite,  (father  of  Louis  Philippe.)  to  make  a 
further  progress  in  the  corruption  of  the  public  morals. 
He  divided  his  palace  into  tenements,  and  hired  them 
out  to  every  pursuit  of  every  purchaser,  however  vile. 
From  this  assemblage  of  gaming  houses,  and  nests  of 
the  most  daring  and  the  most  forbidden  violations  of 
law,  human  and  divine,  was  poured  forth,  in  its  time 
of  ripeness,  the  misery  of  France.  The  government, 
which  had  criminally  endured  such  a  center  of  abomi¬ 
nation  in  its  capital,  and  had  even  suffered  a  scanda¬ 
lous  revenue  to  be  raised  out  of  its  pollutions,  was 
the  first  to  feel  the  evil.  The  Palais  Royal  suddenly 
combined  with  its  character  as  the  chosen  place  of  the 
low  luxuries  of  Parisian  life,  the  new  character  of  the 


IS 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  IDS  TISEES. 


head-quarters  of  revolution.  There  were  to  be  found 
the  haranguers  against  the  state  ;  there  were  the  con¬ 
federacies  which  marched  to  the  overthrow  of  the 
throne.  If  the  government  of  Louis  XYI.  had  been 
awake  to  the  primary  obligation  on  all  governments  of 
guarding  the  national  morals,  this  glaring  scandal 
would  not  have  been  suffered  an  hour — the  gates  of  the 
Palais  Eoyal  would  have  been  closed  on  the  whole 
race  of  its  professors  of  abomination. 

The  clergy,  too,  shared  in  the  general  corruption. 
Tneir  wealth  was  enormous  ;  their  luxury  excessive 
and  ostentatious  ;  and  all  pretensions  to  superior  sanc¬ 
tity  or  correctness  of  manners  had  long  since  been 
abandoned.  Indeed,  many  of  the  highest  rank  among 
them  were  pre-eminent  for  their  licentiousness.  Gener¬ 
ally  speaking,  it  might  be  said,  that,  for  a  long  time, 
the  hm-her  orders  of  the  clerew  had  ceased  to  take  a 
vital  concern  in  their  profession,  or  to  exercise  its  func¬ 
tions  in  a  manner  which  interested  the  feelings  and 
affections  of  men. 

The  Catholic  church  had  grown  old,  and  unfortu¬ 
nately  did  not  possess  the  means  of  renovating  her 
doctrines,  or  improving  her  constitution,  so  as  to  keep 
pace  with  the  enlargement  of  the  human  understanding. 
The  lofty  claims  to  infallibility  which  she  hffd  set  up 
and  maintained  during  the  middle  ages — claims  which 
she  could  neither  renounce  nor  modify,  now  threatened, 
in  more  enlightened  times,  like  battlements  too  heavy 
for  the  foundation,  to  be  the  means  of  ruining  the  edi¬ 
fice  they  were  designed  to  defend.  To  retrace  no 
footsteps — to  abandon  no  dogma,  continued  to  be  the 
mottoes  of  the  church  of  Rome.  She  could  explain 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ROME. 


19 


.nothing,  soften  nothing,  renounce  nothing,  consistently 
with  her  assertion  of  infallibility. 

The  whole  trash  which  had  been  accumulated  for 
ages  of  darkness  and  ignorance,  whether  consisting  of 
extravagant  pretensions,  incredible  assertions,  absurd 
doctrines  which  confounded  the  understanding,  or  pu¬ 
erile  ceremonies  which  revolted  the  taste,  was  alike 
incapable  of  being  explained  away  or  abandoned.  It 
would  certainly  have  been  (humanly  speaking)  advan¬ 
tageous,  alike  for  the  church  of  Rome  and  for  Chris¬ 
tianity  in  general,  that  the  former  had  possessed  the 
means  of  relinquishing  her  extravagant  claims,  modi¬ 
fying  her  more  obnoxious  doctrines,  and  retrenching 
her  superstitious  ceremonials,  as  increasing  knowledge 
showed  the  injustice  of  the  one,  and  the  absurdity  of 
the  other. 

But  this  power  she  dared  not  assume ;  and  hence, 
perhaps,  the  great  schism  winch  divides  the  Christian 
world,  which  might  otherwise  never  have  existed,  or  at 
least  not  in  its  present  extended  and  imbittered  state. 
But,  in  all  events,  the  church  of  Rome,  retaining  the 
spiritual  empire  over  so  large  and  fair  a  portion  of  the 
Christian  world,  would  not  have  been  reduced  to  the 
alternative  of  either  defending  propositions,  which,  in 
the  eyes  of  all  enlightened  men,  are  altogether  unten¬ 
able,  or  of  beholding  the  most  essential  and  vital  doc¬ 
trines  of  Christianity  confounded  with  them,  and  the 
whole  system  exposed  to  the  scorn  of  the  infidel.  The 
more  enlightened  and  better  informed  part  of  the 
French  nation  had  fallen  very  generally  into  the  latter 
extreme. 

Infidelity,  in  attacking  the  absurd  claims  and 


20 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


extravagant  doctrines  of  the  church  of  Rome,  had  art¬ 
fully  availed  herself  of  those  abuses,  as  if  they  had  been 
really  a  part  of  the  Christian  religion  ;  and  they  whose 
credulity  could  not  digest  the  grossest  articles  of  the 
papist  creed,  thought  themselves  entitled  to  conclude, 
in  general,  against  religion  itself,  from  the  abuses  in¬ 
grafted  upon  it  by  ignorance  and  priestcraft.  The  same 
circumstances  which  favored  the  assault,  tended  to 
weaken  the  defense. 

Embarrassed  by  the  necessity  of  defending  the  mass 
of  human  inventions  with  which  their  church  had  ob¬ 
scured  and  deformed  Christianity,  the  Catholic  clergy 
were  not  the  best  advocates  even  in  the  best  of  causes  ; 
and  though  there  were  many  brilliant  exceptions,  yet 
it  must  be  owned  that  a  great  part  of  the  higher  orders 
of  the  priesthood  gave  themselves  little  trouble  about 
maintaining  the  doctrines,  or  extending  the  influence 
of  the  church,  considering  it  only  in  the  light  of  an 
asylum,  where,  under  the  condition  of  certain  renunci¬ 
ations,  they  enjoyed,  in  indolent  tranquillity,  a  state  of 
ease  and  luxury. 

Those  who  thought  on  the  subject  more  deeply,  were 
contented  quietly  to  repose  the  safety  of  the  church 
upon  the  restrictions  on  the  press,  which  prevented  the 
possibility  of  free  discussion.  The  usual  effect  fol¬ 
lowed  ;  and  many  who,  if  manly  and  open  debate 
upon  theological  subjects  had  been  allowed,  would 
doubtless  have  been  enabled  to  winnow  the  wheat 
from  the  chaff,  were,  in  the  state  of  darkness  to  which 
they  were  reduced,  led  to  reject  Christianity  itself, 
along  with  the  corruptions  of  the  Romish  church, 
and  to  become  absolute  infidels  instead  of  reformed 
Christians. 


CONDITION  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 


21 


The  number  of  the  clergy,  who  were  thus  indiffer¬ 
ent  to  doctrine  or  duty,  was  largely  increased,  since 
promotion  to  the  great  benefices  had  ceased  to  be  dis¬ 
tributed  with  regard  to  the  morals,  piety,  talents,  and 
erudition  of  the  candidates,  but  was  bestowed  among 
the  younger  branches  of  the  nobility,  upon  men  who 
were  at  little  pains  to  reconcile  the  looseness  of  their 
former  habits  and  opinions  with  the  sanctity  of  their 
new  jirofession,  and  who,  embracing  the  church  solely 
as  a  means  of  maintenance,  were  little  calculated  by 
their  lives  or  learning  to  extend  its  consideration. 

Beneath  all,  there  was  the  bulk  of  the  population, 
urban  and  rural,  who  may  be  said  to  have  literally  pos¬ 
sessed  no  rights,  except  that  of  paying  taxes.  All  the 
burdens  of  the  state  fell  on  the  industrious  and  product¬ 
ive  classes.  The  nobility  and  clergy  were  exempt  from 
taxation.  The  most  oppressive  mode  of  collecting 
prevailed.  Two-thirds  of  the  whole  land  of  the  coun¬ 
try  was  in  the  possession  of  the  nobility  and  clergy, 
who,  not  content  with  their  fiscal  exemption,  imposed 
upon  the  cultivators  feudal  dues  and  services  of  the 
most  onerous  and  harassing  description. 

The  right  of  killing  game  was  reserved  to  the  land¬ 
lords  ;  and  tenants  were  even  forbidden,  by  special 
edicts,  to  till  their  ground,  or  reap  their  crops,  if  the 
preservation  of  young  broods  might  be  thereby  endan¬ 
gered.  Game  of  the  most  destructive  kind,  such  as 
wild  boars  and  herds  of  deer,  was  permitted  to  go  at 
large  through  extensive  districts,  without  any  inclosures 
to  protect  the  crops.  Numerous  edicts  existed  which 
prohibited  hoeing  and  weeding,  lest  the  young  par¬ 
tridges  should  be  disturbed  ;  taking  away  the  stubble, 


22 


LOUIS  NAI'OLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


lest  the  birds  should  be  deprived  of  shelter  ;  mowing 
hay,  lest  their  eggs  should  be  destroyed  ;  manuring 
with  night-soil,  lest  their  flavor  should  be  injured. 
Manorial  courts  were  scattered  through  the  land,  to 
take  summary  vengeance  on  delinquents  in  any  of 
these  particulars.  In  fact,  the  rural  population  was,  to 
a  certain  extent,  in  a  state  of  serfdom,  continually  ex 
posed  to  galling  and  degrading  tyranny,  which  the 
inhabitants  of  towns  escaped  only  to  undergo  humilia¬ 
tions  and  vexations  of  an  analogous  nature. 

It  was  impossible  that  agriculture  could  flourish  un¬ 
der  such  untoward  circumstances.  Instead  of  being 
protected  and  encouraged  in  his  indispensable  calling, 
the  husbandman  was  regarded  as  a  species  of  drudge, 
appointed  by  nature  to  toil  for  the  benefit  of  superiors. 
The  king,  the  nobility,  and  the  clergy,  all  considered 
him  in  this  light,  and  contended  wdiich  should  wring 
from  him  the  most  in  the  various  shapes  of  taxes,  rents, 
dues,  and  tithes.  Thus  cultivation  was  in  the  rudest 
state,  and  the  naturally  fertile  soil  yielded  but  a  frac¬ 
tion  of  the  produce  it  might  have  been  stimulated  to 
rear.  Travelers  who  visited  France  at  this  epoch, 
concur  in  representing  abject  poverty  and  wretchedness 
as  the  universal  lot  of  the  peasantry. 

Nor  was  it  otherwise  with  commerce.  Industry 
was  fettered  by  a  thousand  shackles.  Eulers  have,  in 
every  age  and  country,  with  strange  perversity,  marked 
trade  and  its  followers  for  their  legitimate  prey,  and, 
in  the  alternate  guise  of  exaction  and  restriction,  la¬ 
bored  to  cramp  its  development.  The  right  to  carry 
on  business,  to  exercise  a  profession,  was  a  matter  of 
purchase.  Not  only  were  there  chartered  guilds  to 


MALADMINISTRATION  OF  JUSTICE. 


23 


enter  through  a  long  novitiate  and  a  heavy  outlay,  but 
the  king  also  was  to  be  bought.  Licenses  might  be 
obtained  from  him  to  monopolize  certain  callings 
within  a  particular  circuit,  such  as  those  of  barber, 
wood-vender,  sausage -maker,  &c.  When  the  royal 
treasury  needed  a  sudden  replenishment,  multitudes  of 
these  licenses  used  to  be  issued,  which  were  bought  up 
in  the  first  instance  by  capitalists,  and  subsequently 
resold  by  them  through  the  country  at  a  considerable 
advance.  A  regular  traffic  was  at  times  maintained 
in  this  singular  species  of  paper-money,  prices  being 
ruled  naturally  by  the  prospect,  more  or  less  promis¬ 
ing,  of  plundering  the  community. 

The  corruption  and  uncertainty  prevailing  in  the 
administration  of  justice  likewise  tended  to  thwart  tho 
operations  of  commerce.  Judicial  offices  were  subjects 
of  bargain  and  sale  in  every  part  of  the  kingdom,  dis¬ 
posed  of  to  the  highest  bidders,  wholly  irrespective  of 
competency.  Hence  bribery  flowed  as  a  necessary 
consequence,  and  the  courts  of  law  degenerated  into 
mere  marts,  where  justice  was  openly  bartered  for  gold. 
Thus  privilege  was  the  grand  characteristic  of  France 
at  this  period,  ranging  through  all  the  ramifications  of 
her  disjointed  society.  First,  the  high  nobility,  with 
sinecures  and  pensions  often  hereditary,  crouched  in 
sycophancy  around  the  court,  and  regarded  all  others 
as  made  to  minister  to  their  gratifications.  Next,  the 
inferior  nobility  or  gentry,  who  alone  were  eligible  to 
be  officers  in  the  army  and  navy,  and  to  fill  sundry 
important  offices  ;  both  exempt  from  taxation. 

Thus  the  French  labored  under  a  despotism  to  which 
the  horrors  of  Hindoo  servitude  were  comparative 


24 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


freedom.  Without  trial  by  jury,  without  means  of 
justice,  subjected  to  the  most  atrocious  oppressions,  in 
person  and  property,  by  the  grand  seigneurs,  the  posi¬ 
tion  of  a  French  subject  was  far  less  enviable  than  that 
of  an  Egyptian  fellah  of  the  present  day.  The  life  of 
a  peasant  wras  less  valued  than  that  of  a  wild  boar, 
and  long  centuries  of  tyranny  had  left  him  but  little 
else  of  humanity  than  its  form. 

A  volume  would  scarcely  suffice  to  define  all  the  op¬ 
pressions  to  which  the  French  subject  was  exposed  ; 
and  how  great  soever  were  his  wrongs,  the  semblance 
of  justice  was  to  be  had  only  through  the  influence  of 
the  beauty  of  a  female  relation,  or  bribes  in  money, 
that  were  openly  and  shamelessly  administered.  The 
Bastile  was  crowded  with  the  victims  of  private  ani¬ 
mosity,  consigned  to  loathsome  dungeons  without  the 
pretense  of  crime,  by  arbitrary  arrests  obtained  from 
a  corrupt  executive  through  favor  or  money.  These 
victims  numbered  15,000,  in  the  reign  of  Louis  XY. 
Safety  for  persons  and  property  there  was  none  ;  and 
the  social  relations  of  the  lower  classes  were  exposed  to 
the  debaucheries  of  the  seigneurs;  among  the  long 
catalogue  of  whose  infamous  “  rights,”  the  “  Tmiser  de 
viariees ,”  and  the  “  silence  dc  grenouilles ,”  were  at 
once  the  most  odious  and  the  most  ridiculous.  The 
nature  of  the  latter,  was  a  requirement  on  the  peasants 
to  beat  constantly  the  waters  of  the  marshy  districts, 
in  order  to  keep  silent  the  frogs,  lest  their  croakings 
should  disturb  the  lady  of  the  seigneur  during  her  con¬ 
finement.  This  duty  might  be  commuted  for  a  sum  of 
money,  or  the  delinquent  caught,  and  hung  up  without 
ceremony  at  the  door  of  the  grand  seigneur. 


ANARCHY. 


25 


Debauchery  and  blasphemy,  selfishness  and  disre¬ 
gard  of  right,  in  high  places,  had  done  their  worst. 
Nothing  short  of  miraculous  interposition  could  have 
saved  France  from  the  legitimate  consequences  of  its 
own  unparalleled  infamy.  A  rapid  stride  in  political 
knowledge  had  been  made  in  the  briefest  possible  space 
of  time,  but  the  alphabet  of  morals  and  the  social  vir¬ 
tues,  had  yet  to  be  acquired. 

A  revolution  prompted  by  principles  thoroughly  en¬ 
lightened,  fostered  by  motives  thoroughly  pure,  and 
commenced  by  means  thoroughly  pacific  and  constitu¬ 
tional,  had,  unfortunately,  been  attempted  by  a  nation 
which,  if  we  regard  it  in  the  mass,  must  be  pronounced 
to  have  been  utterly  unworthy  of  the  blessings  to 
which  the  contemplated  changes  were  in  themselves 
likely  to  lead. 

J  ustified  in  revolt  by  the  oppressions  and  crimes  of 
their  rulers,  but  undeserving  of  freedom  by  reason  of 
their  own  vices,  the  French  nation  knew  not  how  to 
use  the  gift  when  it  was  put  into  their  hands.  The 
first  steps  of  their  emancipation  plunged  them  into  an¬ 
archy,  irreligion,  and  massacre.  They  dishonored  that 
6acred  name  of  Liberty  which  they  had  proudly  writ¬ 
ten  upon  their  banner  :  and  they  were  punished  — more 
for  the  sins  of  their  governors  than  for  their  own  —  by 
having  to  pass  again  under  the  yoke,  and  to  learn 
some  of  the  duties  of  freemen,  from  a  despot  whom 
they  themselves  had  been,  obliged  to  place  on  the 
throne  of  the  Capets. 

No  great  revolution  can  be  accomplished  without 
excesses  and  miseries  at  which  humanity  revolts.  This 
is  eminently  true  of  the  French  revolution.  It  was  a 

2 


26 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


destruction  of  great  abuses,  executed  with  much  inhu 
inanity,  violence  and  injustice. 

But  notwithstanding  the  crimes  of  the  revolution  and 
the  sufferings  it  caused,  it  effected  a  beneficial  change. 
A  revolution,  at  its  be^t,  is  a  painful  and  perilous  rem¬ 
edy  ;  at  its  worst,' it  is  the  severest  trial  which  a  nation 
can  undergo.  But  such  trials  seldom  occur,  except  in 
cases  where  hopeless  slavery  and  irreparable  decay  are 
the  only  alternatives.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
French  Revolution  was  an  instance  of  the  worst  kind  ; 
perhaps  it  was  the  very  worst  that  ever  occurred.  Not 
only  did  the  popular  movement  result  in  atrocities,  but 
the  exhaustion  which  followed  led  to  the  usurpation  of 
Napoleon  and  the  wars  of  the  empire. 

Three  millions  and  a  half  of  Frenchmen,*  and  a 
prodigious  number  of  foreigners,  perished,  who,  but  for 
the  Revolution  and  its  consequences,  might  have  ended 
their  daj's  in  peace.  Human  ingenuity,  in  short,  can 
scarcely  imagine  means  by  which  a  greater  amount  of 
violence  and  bloodshed  could  have  been  crowded  into 
a  quarter  of  a  century.  Still,  an  escape  from  this  fiery 
trial  would  have  been  dearly  purchased  by  the  contin¬ 
uance  of  the  ancient  institutions  for  another  century. 
The  evils  of  violence  and  bloodshed,  dreadful  as  they 
are,  cannot  be  compared  to  those  of  oppressive  insti¬ 
tutions.  Violence  and  bloodshed  are  necessarily  par¬ 
tial,  but  oppressive  institutions  are  universal.  It  is 


*  Mr.  Alison,  in  his  history,  enumerates  the  victims  of  the  Revolution, 
including  those  of  the  civil  war  in  La  Vendee,  at  1,022,351  souls;  and 
the  soldiers  who  perished  in  the  wars  of  the  Empire,  at  2,200,400.  This 
does  not  include  those  who  fell  at  Waterloo,  in  the  battles  of  the  revolu¬ 
tionary  contest,  and  in  the  various  naval  actions  of  the  war. 


FRENCH  PEASANTRY. 


27 


impossible  to  guillotine  a  whole  nation  ;  it  is  impossible 
to  enroll  a  whole  nation  as  conscripts  ;  but  it  is  easy  to 
make  a  whole  nation  miserable  by  disabilities  and  exac¬ 
tions.  Even  under  the  Reign  of  Terror,  each  individual 
citizen  must  have  felt  that  there  were  many  hundred 
chances  to  one  in  favor  of  his  escape  from  denuncia¬ 
tion  ;  blit  no  peasant  had  a  hope  of  escaping  the 
tyranny  of  the  feudal  customs. 

Violence  and  bloodshed  are  in  their  nature  transi¬ 
tory  ;  but  oppressive  institutions  may  be  perpetual. 
Crimes  which  spring  from  passion  soon  exhaust  them¬ 
selves  ;  but  crimes  which  spring  from  habit  may 
continue  for  ever.  The  Reign  of  Terror  was  over  in 
fourteen  months  ;  but  the  ancient  regime  might  have 
subsisted  until  its  effects  had  reduced  France  to  the  de¬ 
crepitude  of  China  or  Constantinople.  Violence  and 
bloodshed  produce  merely  suffering  ;  but  oppress’ ve 
institutions  produce  degradation  also.  A  French  peas¬ 
ant  might  retain  the  pride  and  spirit  of  a  free  man, 
though  he  knew  that  the  next  day  he  might  be  dragged 
before  a  revolutionary  tribunal,  or  hurried  to  join  the 
army  in  Spain  or  Russia.  But  a  French  peasant  who 
had  been  placed  in  the  stocks  for  want  of  due  servility 
to  a  noble,  who  had  seen  his  son  sent  to  the  galleys  for 
destroying  a  partridge’s  eggs,  who  knew  that  the  honor 
of  his  family  had  been  outraged  by  some  licentious 
courtier — such  a  man  could  not  but  feel  himself  a  de¬ 
based  and  unhappy  slave.  The  sufferings  of  the  Revo¬ 
lution,  in  short,  were  to  the  sufferings  of  the  Bourbon 
monarchy,  as  the  plague  in  London  to  the  malaria  of  a 
tropical  climate.  The  one  was  a  temporary,  though 
overwhelming  blow*  the  other  a  wasting  pestilence  — 


28 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


the  perpetual  source  of  terror  and  misery  to  eveiy 
successive  generation  existing  within  its  influence. 

The  whole  of  the  privileged  classes  of  France  actu¬ 
ally  vied  with  the  populace  in  running  the  career  of 
general  subserviency.  The  National  Assembly  was 
totally  irreligious.  It  was  a  great  conclave  of  infidels. 
All  professing  popery,  all  alienated  by  their  habits  from 
the  religion  of  the  Scriptures,  all  scoffing  at  that  reli¬ 
gion  which  they  had  been  forbid,  to  investigate,  and  all 
hating  the  superstition  which  had  been  substituted  in 
its  room — the  higher  orders  of  France,  the  gentry,  and 
the  whole  body  of  literature  were  godless.  Is  it  to  be 
wondered  at,  that  their  private  profligacy  passed  into 
their  public  existence? — that  the  heartlessness,  vanity, 
selfishness,  and  love  of  pleasure,  which  already  made 
society  in  France  an  abomination  in  the  sight  of  earth 
and  heaven,  should  have  only  flamed  out  in  the  broad 
and  violent  fires  of  the  Revolution  ? 

But  with  every  allowance  for  the  operation  of  these 
unfortunate  conditions,  much,  no  doubt,  must  be  at¬ 
tributed  to  the  singular  features  of  the  French  charac¬ 
ter  :  to  that  fickle  and  hasty  temperament,  that  warlike 
spirit  and  inordinate  passion  for  military  glory,  and 
that  deplorable  want  of  moral  principle  which  have 
too  much  distinguished  it,  but  which  were  never  so 
marked  or  attended  with  such  fatal  consequences  as 
during  the  revolutionary  struggle.  There  is  much  that 
is  amiable,  and  much  that  is  admirable,  in  the  French 
character ;  for  general  cleverness,  active  enterprise, 
daring  heroism,  and  patience  under  the  hardships  and 
privations  of  war,  they  are,  perhaps,  unrivaled  ;  but 
the  quiet  enthusiasm  which  pursues  its  object,  steadily 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


29 


and  silently,  through  neglect  and  through  reproach  — 
the  courage  to  withstand  popular  clamor — the  firm¬ 
ness  to  resist  the  contagion  of  popular  emotion  —  the 
fortitude  to  suffer  in  obscurity  and  in  secret — the  de¬ 
votion  to  adhere  unflinchingly  to  an  obnoxious  prin¬ 
ciple  or  to  a  sinking  cause  —  these,  unhappily,  have  at 
no  time  been  prominent  in  the  Gallic  character. 

The  vices  and  cruelties  of  the  several  governments 
which  successively  seized  the  direction  of  affairs,  after 
the  memorable  events  of  1789,  and  the  consequent  dis¬ 
appointment,  disgust,  and  exhaustion  of  the  people, 
paved  an  easy  way  for  the  daring  usurpation  of  Na¬ 
poleon  Bonaparte  ;  and  amid  the  comparative  repose 
which  ensued  under  his  iron  despotism,  the  nation, 
wearied  of  its  fruitless  struggle  after  freedom,  sunk 
quietly  to  sleep. 

There  can  be  no  stronger  illustration  of  the  genius 
and  influence  of  Bonaparte  than  the  simple  fact,  that 
for  twenty  years  his  life  and  the  history  of  Europe  are 
convertible  terms.  During  the  whole  of  that  time,  the 
annals  of  the  smallest  European  state  would  be  abso¬ 
lutely  unintelligible  without  a  clear  view  of  the  policy 
and  character  of  the  French  Emperor ;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  every  change  of  rulers  in  the  pettiest  prin¬ 
cipality —  every  intrigue  at  Petersburg  or  Naples  — 
every  motion  in  the  British  Parliament  —  was  of  im¬ 
mediate  and  vital  concern  to  Napoleon.  This  is  more 
than  can  be  said  of  any  other  conqueror  or  statesman 
in  modern  times.  The  direct  influence  of  Louis,  Fred¬ 
erick,  and  Catharine,  was  comparatively  limited.  A 
Russian  or  a  Turk  cared  little  for  the  invasion  of  Hol¬ 
land  or  the  Spanish  succession  ;  and  an  Italian  was 


30 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HI8  TIMES. 


comparatively  indifferent  to  the  conquest  of  Silesia  or 
the  division  of  Poland.  But  no  such  supineness  pre¬ 
vailed  during  the  wars  of  the  French  empire.  Wher¬ 
ever  the  great  conqueror  was  engaged,  the  breathless 
attention  of  all  Europe  was  fixed.  Every  citizen  of 
every  state  felt  his  hopes  or  his  fortunes  raised  or  do 
pressed  by  the  event.  The  death  of  an  English  minis 
ter  was  hastened  by  the  battle  of  Marengo  ;  the  treaty 
of  Tilsit  was  felt  as  an  object  of  interest  in  the  deserts 
of  central  Asia  ;  the  battle  of  Leipsic  roused  or  para¬ 
lyzed  every  European  from  Cadiz  to  the  North  Cape. 
The  French  empire,  in  a  word,  resembled  the  talis- 
manic  globe  of  the  sorcerers  in  Southey’s  poem  of 
“  Thalaba,”  the  slightest  touch  upon  which  caused  the 
whole  universe  to  tremble. 

A  brief  review  of  the  career  and  character  of  Bona¬ 
parte,  the  influence  of  whose  name  alone,  has  recently 
exerted,  and  seems  destined  yet  to  exert,  an  almost  ir¬ 
resistible  control  over  the  destinies  of  France  —  whose 
nephew,  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  has  been  elevated 
to  power  by  the  French  people — cannot  be  without 
interest. 

In  the  year  1785  there  died  at  Montpelier,  in  the 
prime  of  life,  a  Corsican  lawyer,  named  Charles  Bona¬ 
parte.  His  place  of  residence  was  the  town  of  Ajaccio, 
in  his  native  island.  As  is  usual  in  southern  climates, 
he  married  at  the  early  age  of  nineteen,  having  won 
for  his  wife,  from  numerous  competitors,  the  reigning 
beauty  of  tho  world  of  Corsica,  the  young  Letitia  Ra- 
molino,  who  was  remarkable,  not  only  for  her  personal 
charms,  but  also  for  the  courage  and  fortitude  of  her 
character.  IJo  left  ho*-  &,  widow,  still  young  and 


BONAPARTE  FAMILY. 


31 


beautiful,  with  eight  children,  of  whom  the  eldest  was 
but  seventeen  years,  and  the  youngest  only  three 
months.  Six  others  had  died  in  infancy.  Left  in 
somewhat  straitened  circumstances,  the  chief  reliance 
of  the  family  was  in  a  rich  old  uncle,  nn  ecclesiastic  in 
the  Corsican  church.  Two  of  the  children,  indeed,  had 
already,  in  a  manner,  been  provided  for.  The  eldest, 
a  son,  had  begun  the  study  of  the  law.  The  second,  a 
youth  of  sixteen,  had  completed  his  education  at  the 
military  academies  of  Brienne  and  Paris,  and  had  just 
received,  or  was  on  the  point  of  receiving,  a  sub-lieu- 
tenancy  of  artillery  in  the  French  king’s  army.  It  was 
on  this  young  soldier,  rather  than  on  his  elder  brother, 
that  the  hopes  of  the  family  were  fixed.  Even  the 
poor  father’s  ravings  on  his  death-bed,  it  is  said,  were 
all  about  his  absent  boy,  Napoleon,  and  a  “  great 
sword  ”  that  he  was  to  bequeath  to  him. 

Sixty-seven  years  have  elapsed  since  then  —  two 
generations  and  part  of  a  third  —  and  wrhat  changes 
have  they  not  seen  in  the  fortunes  of  the  Corsican 
family  !  In  the  first,  issuing  from  their  native  island, 
like  some  band  of  old  Heracleidae,  and  pushing,  with 
their  military  brother  at  their  head,  into  the  midst  of 
a  revolution  that  wras  then  convulsing  Europe,  these 
half-Italian  orphans,  whose  dialect  no  one  could  recog¬ 
nize,  cut  their  way  to  the  center  of  the  tumult,  seize  the 
administration,  and  are  distributed  as  kings  and  princes 
among  the  western  nations.  In  the  second,  shattered 
and  thrown  down  as  by  a  stroke  of  Apocalyptic  ven¬ 
geance,  they  are  dispersed  as  wanderers  over  the  civ¬ 
ilized  world,  to  increase  their  numbers,  and  form 
connections  everywhere.  And  now.  again,  at  the 


32 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


beginning  of  a  third,  there  seems  to  be  a  gathering  of 
them  toward  the  old  center,  as  if  for  a  new  function  in 
regard  to  the  future.  Let  us  glance  for  a  little  at  these 
successive  chapters  of  a  most  extraordinary  family- 
history,  not  yet  ended. 

The  outbreak  of  the  Revolution  in  1789  found  the 
Bonapartes  all  living  together  at  Ajaccio  —  the  eldest, 
Joseph,  in  his  twenty-third  year,  a  lawyer  entering  into 
practice  ;  the  second,  Napoleon,  now  twenty-one  years 
of  age,  a  lieutenant  of  artillery  on  leave  of  absence  ; 
the  third,  Lucien,  a  hot-headed  young  man,  five  years 
younger  than  Napoleon,  and  fresh  from  the  college  of 
Autun  ;  the  fourth,  a  daughter,  Eliza,  then  in  her  fif¬ 
teenth  year  ;  next  to  her,  Louis,  a  boy  of  twelve  or 
thirteen  ;  and  lastly,  the  three  youngest,  still  mere  in¬ 
fants,  Pauline,  Caroline,  and  Jerome.  In  the  same 
house  with  the  Bonapartes,  and  about  three  years  older 
than  Joseph,  lived  the  Abbe  Fesch,  a  half-brother  of 
Madame  Bonaparte.  All  the  family,  as  indeed  almost 
all  the  Corsicans  at  that  time,  were  admirers  of  the 
Revolution  ;  but  the  most  fervid  revolutionist  o'f  all  was 
Lucien,  who  was  the  juvenile  prodigy  of  the  family, 
and  whose  speeches,  delivered  at  the  meetings  of  a 
popular  society  that  had  been  established  at  Ajaccio, 
were  the  delight  of  the  town.  Joseph,  older  and 
steadier,  took  his  part,  too,  in  the  general  bustle  ;  while 
the  lieutenant  amused  his  idleness  by  long  walks  about 
the  island,  and  by  writing  various  essays  and  sketches, 
among  which  is  mentioned  a  History  of  the  Revolution 
of  Corsica,  a  manuscript  copy  of  which  was  forwarded 
to  Mirabeau. 

Driven  from  Corsica,  on  account  of  their  political 


THE  WATF  ON  THE  FRENCH  COAST. 


38 


opinions,  the  widow  and  her  eight  children  were  cast, 
like  a  waif,  vjpon  the  shores  of  France.  Madame 
Bonaparte,  amidst  a  small  band  of  faithful  followers, 
marched  with  her  young  children,  under  the  shade  of 
darkness,  and,  before  daylight,  reached  a  secluded  spot 
on  the  sea-shore,  whence,  from  an  elevation,  she  could 
6ee  her  house  in  flames.  Undaunted  by  the  sad  spec¬ 
tacle,  she  exclaimed,  “Never  mind,  we  will  build  it  up 
again  much  better  :  Vive  la  France!  ”  After  a  con¬ 
cealment  of  two  days  and  nights  in  the  recesses  of  the 
woods,  the  fugitives  were  at  length  gladdened  by  the 
eight' of  a  French  frigate,  on  board  of  which  were  Jo¬ 
seph  and  Napoleon.  In  this  vessel  the  whole  party  at 
once  embarked,  and  as  no  hope  remained  of  finding 
security  in  Corsica,  it  was  straightway  steered  for 
France.  Marseilles  was  its  port  of  destination,  and 
there  it  accordingly  landed  the  family  of  exiles,  desti¬ 
tute  of  every  vestige  of  property,  but  unbroken,  it. 
would  seem,  in  courage  and  health.  Madame  Bona¬ 
parte  had  occasion  for  the  exercise  of  all  her  fortitude 
in  these  trying  circumstances,  for  she  was  reduced  to 
almost  extreme  poverty,  and  was  fain  to  receive  with 
thankfulness  the  rations  of  bread  distributed  by  the 
municipality  to  refugee  patriots.  Joseph  speedily 
received  an  appointment  as  a  commissary  of  war  ;  and 
he  and  Napoleon  contributed  to  the  support  of  the 
family  from  their  scanty  allowances  ;  but  during  the 
first  years  of  their  residence  in  France,  these  obscure 
exiles,  who  even  spoke  the  language  of  their  adopted 
country  with  difficulty,  suffered  all  the  inconveniences 
of  extreme  penury. 

Marseilles  became  the  head-quarters  of  the  Bona- 
2* 


34 


LOUfS  NATOLEON  AND  1113  TIMES. 


parte  family  during  the  Reign  of  Terror.  Here,  from 
1793  to  1796,  they  were  severally  to  be  either  seen  or 
heard  of — Joseph,  employed  as  a  commissary  of  war, 
living  in  the  town,  wooing,  and  at  last’(1794)  marrying 
a  Mademoiselle  Clary,  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy  mer¬ 
chant  ;  Napoleon,  occasionally  at  Marseilles,  but  usu¬ 
ally  absent  in  Paris,  or  elsewhere,  already  a  general  of 
brigade,  having  been  raised  to  that  rank  for  his  serv 
ices  at  the  siege  of  Toulon,  yet  grumbling  at  his  pov 
erty  and  inactivity,  and  thinking  his  brother  Joseph  3 
“  lucky  rogue  ”  in  having  made  so  good  a  match  ;  Lu- 
cien,  a  young  firebrand,  known  over  the  whole  district 
as  “Brutus.  Bonaparte,”  and  extremely  popular  as  a 
republican  orator  at  Marseilles,  where,  in  1795,  he 
married  the  sister  of  an  innkeeper  ;  and  lastly,  the 
five  younger  members  of  the  family  living  with  their 
mother. 

The  fall  of  Robespierre  and  his  party  (July,  1794) 
was  a  temporary  blow  to  the  fortunes  of  the  Bonapartes, 
connected  as  they  were  with  that  side  of  the  Revolu¬ 
tion.  General  Bonaparte  was  arrested,  and  although 
afterward  liberated,  was  still  suspected  and  degraded. 
His  release  was  purchased  by  the  sacrifice  of  his  rank 
in  the  army,  and  he  lost  all  the  fruits  of  the  brilliant 
reputation  he  had  won,  and  was  thrown  an  outcast 
upon  the  world,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  ignomini- 
ously  expelled  from  the  profession  in  which  he  had 
already  begun  to  gather  prospective  laurels. 

After  his  discharge  from  the  army  and. from  captiv¬ 
ity,  Napoleon  had  proceeded  to  Paris,  with  the  view 
of  claiming  from  the  new  government,  reparation  of 
the  wrongs  he  had  suffered.  But  all  his  applications 


HOPES  OF  OMENTAL  EMPIRE. 


35 


being  fruitless,  he  found  himself  in  a  situation  at  once 
most  galling  and  deplorable ;  since,  to  his  impetuous 
spirit,  the  want  of  employment  at  a  time  when  active 
service  offered  so  many  chances  of  distinction,  must 
have  been  intolerable,  while  his  destitution  was  such 
that  he  often  lacked  the  means  of  procuring  a  dinner. 
Yet  his  ardent  imagination  was  even  then  filled  with 
reveries  of  the  greatness  he  might  achieve  ;  and  it  was 
on  an  oriental  field  his  thoughts  wandered  in  brilliant 
perspectives  ;  for  he  deemed  Europe  tame  and  sterile 
in  comparison  with  Asia,  as  a  theater  of  glorious  enter¬ 
prise.  lie  cherished  the  idea  of  leaving  France,  and 
offering  to  the  Turkish  sultan  the  sword  his  country 
was  unworthy  to  possess  ;  but  averse  to  go  forth  as  a 
mere  adventurer,  he  submitted  a  proposition  to  the 
government  for  heading  a  detachment  of  officers  to 
improve  the  discipline  of  the  Ottoman  forces,  and  pre¬ 
pare  them  for  a  more  equal  encounter  with  the  trained 
soldiers  of  Russia.  This  proposition,  however,  was 
not  entertained  ;  and  the  impatient  hero  was  compelled 
to  await  a  more  propitious  period  to  realize  his  scheme 
of  revolution  and  conquest  in  the  East.  To  the  very 
end  of  his  career  his  mind  was  full  of  the  most  roman¬ 
tic  visions  of  eastern  grandeur  ;  and  his  magnificent 
and  wild  imagination  presents  a  vivid  contrast  to  the 
vigorous  grasp  of  his  intellect,  the  coolness  of  his  judg¬ 
ment,  and  the  crystal  clearness  of  his  understanding. 
The  throne  of  Constantinople  or  Ilindostan  was  one  of 
the  dreams  of  his  earliest  youth  ;  and  even  in  the  midst 
of  his  most  splendid  European  conquests,  gorgeous 
visions  of  palms  and  pagodas  were  seldom  long  absent 
from  his  fancy.  This  dream  of  oriental  empire  was 


36 


LOUIS  NAPOI.EON  AND  IITS  TISrES. 


the  chief  incentive  to  his  subsequent  Egyptian  expe¬ 
dition.  While  o-azino-  on  the  mount  of  Richard  Coeur 

O 

de  Lion,  previous  to  his  repulse  at  Acre,  he  said  to 
Bourrienne,  “Yes,  that  miserable  fort  has,  indeed,  cost 
me  dear.  But  matters  have  gone  too  far  for  me  not  to 
make  a  last  effort.  If  I  succeed,  I  shall  find  in  that 
town  all  the  treasures  of  the  pacha,  and  arms  for 
300,000  men.  I  shall  raise  and  arm  all  Syria ;  I  shall 
march  on  Damascus  and  Aleppo.  Acre  taken,  I  shall 
secure  Egypt.  I  shall  arrive  at  Constantinople  with 
armed  masses,  overturn  the  empire  of  the  Turks,  and 
establish  a  new  one  in  the  East,  which  will  fix  my 
place  with  posterity.  And  perhaps  I  may  return  to 
Paris  by  Adrianople  and  Vienna,  after  having  annihi¬ 
lated  the  house  of  Austria.”  This  circuit  of  Asia  and 
Europe,  through  subverted  thrones  and  fields  of  battle, 
only  to  return  to  Paris  at  last,  brings  to  the  memory 
the  dialogue  of  Pyrrhus  the  Epirote,  with  the  philoso¬ 
pher,  and  might  be  fairly  ridiculed  by  the  philoso¬ 
pher’s  remark  —  “Why  not  go  there  without  taking  all 
this  trouble  ?  ”  But  extravagant  as  was  the  conception, 
and  boundless  as  the  bloodshed  and  misery  which  must 
have  purchased  this  circuitous  path  to  Paris  and  re¬ 
nown,  it  evidently  clung  to  Kapoleon.  When  all 
things  else  had  left  him,  twenty  years  after,  on  the 
precipices  of  St.  Helena,  he  still  felt  the  blow  that  the 
sword  of  England  had  given  to  his  ambition  in  Syria, 
“  Acre  once  taken,”  said  he,  “  the  French  army  would 
have  flown  to  Aleppo  and  Damascus  ;  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  it  would  have  been  on  the  Euphrates  ;  the 
Christians  of  Syria,  the  Druses,  the  Christians  of  Ar^ 
menia,  would  have  joined  it ;  the  whole  population  of 


thoughts  of  suicide. 


37 


the  East  would  have  been  agitated.”  To  the  observa¬ 
tion,  that  he  would  soon  have  had  100,000  men,  he 
replied,  “Say  rather  600,000.  Who  can  calculate  what 
would  have  happened  ?  I  should  have  reached  Con¬ 
stantinople  and  the  Indies.  I  should  have  changed 
the  face  of  the  world.” 

Big  with  these  enthusiastic  dreams  of  future  power, 
Bonaparte,  poor,  unemployed  and  unfriended,  loitered 
about  the  streets  of  Paris,  scowling  at  the  effeminate 
dandies  who  pranced  in  the  promenades  on  capar¬ 
isoned  horses,  and  lisped  the  praises  of  singers  and 
dancers  at  the  opera  —  for  the  metropolis  of  terror  had 
been  suddenly  changed  to  one  of  exaggerated  gayety, — 
frequenting  coffee-houses,  theaters,  gambling-houses, 
and  other  places  of  amusement  ;  strolling  in  deserted 
avenues,  in  the  stillness  of  evenings,  to  indulge  in  pen¬ 
sive  meditations,  or  to  beguile  the  weary  time  ;  lead¬ 
ing,  in  short,  a  life  of  pure  vagabondism,  which  has  its 
joys  in  the  days  of  youth,  when  the  spirits  are  buoy¬ 
ant  and  hope  is  elastic,  but  which  is  replete  with  mo¬ 
ments  of  remorse  and  anguish.  In  such  paroxysms 
of  the  conscience,  despair  is  prone  to  seize  upon  the 
mind,  and  inspire  its  victims  with  lamentable  im¬ 
pulses.  So  Napoleon  fell  under  the  dire  temptation, 
and  one  night  started  along  the  quays  to  throw  him¬ 
self  from  one  of  the  bridges  over  the  Seine.  On  his 
way  he  encountered  an  old  friend,  whom  he  had  not 
seen  since  they  were  comrades  of  the  camp,  and  to 
whom  he  related  the  sad  story  of  his  distresses,  which 
affected  not  him  only,  but  objects  dearer  to  him  than 
himself.  The  friend  was  moved  by  the  mournful  tale, 
and  presented  to  the  intending  suicide  a  bag  of  gold, 


88 


LOUIS  NArOLICON  AND  HIB  TIMES. 


whose  magic  touch  at  once  dispelled  the  gloomy 
humors  which  had  impelled  him  to  his  fearful  purpose. 

Thus  rescued  from  an  inglorious  death,  the  teeming 
era  of  revolutions  at  length  summoned  into  conspicuous 
action  the  desolate  and  wo-worn  Napoleon  —  an  insur¬ 
rection  occurring  in  Paris,  he  was  fortunate  enough  to 
be  chosen  among  the  officers  appointed  to  suppress  it. 
lie  at  once  assumed  the  direction  of  affairs.  Instantly 
he  opened  upon  the  insurgents  a  terrific  discharge  of 
grape-shot,  which  staggered,  overthrew,  and  routed 
them.  The  battle  was  neither  long  nor  obstinate  ;  the 
insurgents  could  make  no  head  against  the  tempest  of 
balls  vomited  against  them  by  their  pitiless  and  scien¬ 
tific  enemy.  The  conqueror  in  the  broil  was  hailed 
with  acclamations  by  the  grateful  Assembly,  and  in 
reward  of  his  services  he  was  nominated  to  be  General 
of  the  Army  of  the  Interior.  By  this  achievement  he 
saved  the  Revolution,  for  had  the  insurgents  been 
triumphant,  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons  would 
have  been  the  almost  inevitable  result.  Henceforth  he 
became  of  paramount  importance  in  the  convulsed 
community  :  the  reduction  of  Toulon  had  first  fixed 
upon  him  the  attention  which  was  requisite  to  encour¬ 
age  confidence  in  his  superiority  ;  the  repulse  of  the 
insurgents  in  October,  1795,  showed  him  resolute  and 
indomitable  in  conflict,  and  stamped  upon  him  the 
seal  of  predominance,  although  cemented  in  the  gore 
of  fellow-countrymen  and  citizens. 

It  is  thus  that  opportunity  only  is  wanting  to  men 
of  real  genius  and  capacity,  to  make  manifest  the 
qualities  within  them,  and  assure  them  of  a  commanding 
position  among  their  fellow  men.  This  Napoleon  had 


JOSEPHINE. 


39 


gained,  and  straightway  the  path  of  fortune  was  wide 
and  smooth  before  him.  Happy  accidents  almost 
poured  upon  him,  and  none  was  more  singularly  au¬ 
spicious  than  that  which  introduced  him  to  a  wife. 
One  day  he  was  applied  to  by  a  boy  not  more  than 
ten  years  of  age,  for  the  restoration  of  his  father’s 
sword,  which  had  been  seized  in  the  general  search, 
although  its  owner  was  long  since  dead.  The  ingenu¬ 
ous  earnestness  of  the  youth  pleaded  in  his  favor, 
and  Napoleon  restored  him  the  sword  ;  but  he  was 
induced  to  ask  the  circumstances  of  the  family  to 
which  he  belonged.  His  father,  Alexander  de  Beau- 
harnais,  had  commanded  one  of  the  armies  of  the 
republic,  but  had  lost  his  head  in  the  Reign  of  Ter¬ 
ror  ;  his  mother,  Josephine,  still  survived,  having  nar¬ 
rowly  escaped  the  same  fate  by  the  fortunate  overthrow 
of  Robespierre  within  a  few  hours  of  her  intended 
execution.  She  was  a  native  of  Martinique,  and  was 
enveloped  in  a  strange  interest,  from  the  remarkable 
prophecies  that  had  been  made  concerning  her.  In 
one  of  these,  delivered  by  an  old  negress,  she  herself 
put  faith,  with  the  superstition  natural  to  her  clime  ; 
and  so  far,  in  truth,  the  prediction  had  been  verified. 
It  was  said  that  she  should  witness  the  death  of  her 
first  husband,  be  plunged  into  the  deepest  misery,  but 
ultimately  be  raised  above  the  estate  of  a  queen.  But 
whatever  might  be  the  fabled  destinies  in  store  for  her, 
it  was  upon  more  rational  expectations  that  Napoleon 
sought  and  won  her  hand.  She  was  recommended  to 
him  by  the  inimitable  graces  of  her  person  and  man¬ 
ners,  which  were  fascinating  in  a  superlative  degree, 
and  probably  also  by  considerations  of  a  somewhat 


40 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  nTS  TIMES. 


grosser  nature.  Society  was  very  dissolute  at  this 
period  ;  she  had  heretofore  enjoyed  an  intimacy  with 
Barras,  which  gave  her  great  inliuence  over  him  ;  and 
this  personage  now  possessed  almost  supreme  power. 
Hence,  his  favor  was  of  material  consequence,  espe¬ 
cially  in  the  distribution  of  military  commands  ;  and 
as  Napoleon  aspired  to  the  very  highest  and  most  im¬ 
portant  in  the  service  of  the  republic,  it  was  politic  in 
him  to  strengthen  his  pretensions  by  an  alliance  forti¬ 
fied  with  the  most  cogent  and  persuasive  ties. 

At  Josephine’s  house  Bonaparte  was  wont  to  meet 
a  small,  but  valuable  circle,  composed  of  those  who, 
while  they  favored  his  suit,  were  able  likewise  to  pro¬ 
mote  his  interests,  as  soon  as  these  should  become 
united  with  the  fortunes  of  her  whom  he  loved.  On 
her  part  Josephine  was  distinctly  promised  by  Barras, 
that  if  she  would  accede  to  the  arrangement,  Bonaparte 
should  be  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  army  in 
Italy.  In  a  letter  to  a  friend,  explaining  her  motives 
for  marrying  Bonaparte,  she  mentions  this  circum¬ 
stance,  and  says  :  “  Yesterday,  Bonaparte,  speaking  of 
this  favor,  which  already  excites  murmuring  among  his 
fellow-soldiers,  though  it  be  as  yet  only  a  promise,  said 
to  me,  ‘Think  they  then  I  have  need  of  their  protec¬ 
tion  to  arrive  at  power?  Egregious  mistake!  They 
will  all  be  but  too  happy  one  day  should  I  condescend 
to  grant  them  mine.  My  sword  is  by  my  side,  and 
with  it  I  will  go  far !  ’  What  say  you  to  this  security 
of  success?  Is  it  not  a  proof  of  confidence  springing 
from  an  excess  of  vanity?  A  general  of  brigade  pro¬ 
tect  the  head  of  government !  that,  truly,  is  an  event 
highly  probable  !  I  know  not  how  it  is,  but  sometimes 


MARRIAGE  OF  BONAPAJtTE. 


41 


this  waywardness  gains  upon  me  to  such  a  degree, 
that  almost  I  believe  possible  whatever  this  singular 
man  may  take  into  his  head  to  attempt ;  and  with 
his  imagination,  who  can  calculate  what  he  will  not 
undertake  ?  ” 

Truly  might  Josephine,  in  bitterness  of  soul,  accuse 
Bonaparte  of  being  an  ingrate,  who  afterward  sacri¬ 
ficed  her  by  whom  he  had  risen.  She  probably  did 
not  marry  Bonaparte  from  attachment :  a  desire  to 
provide  a  protector  for  her  daughter,  a  guide  for  her 
son,  were  her  own  motives  ;  the  representations  of  her 
friends  accomplished  the  rest.  Time,  and  experience 
of  those  fascinations  which  she  herself  described  as 
unequaled,  ripened  the  grateful  feelings  of  a  mother’s 
heart  into  a  love  and  admiration  which,  for  uncom¬ 
plaining  self-devotedness,  in  the  most  painful  of  all 
sacrifices,  stands  pre-eminent  in  the  sad  story  of 
unrequited  affection. 

Where  passion  prompted  and  ambition  urged,  Bona¬ 
parte  was  not  the  man  to  fail.  His  nuptials  with  Jose¬ 
phine  were  solemnized,  according  to  the  revolutionary 
forms,  by  the  appearance  of  the  contracting  parties 
before  the  civil  magistrate,  March  9,  1796.  Josephine 
was  then  thirty-three  years  of  age,  and  Napoleon 
twenty-seven  —  she  having  been  born  June  23,  1763, 
and  he  August  15,  1769.  On  the  registry  of  the 
marriage,  however,  Josephine’s  birth  is  placed  in  1767. 
The  four  years  thus  deducted  from  her  real  age  must 
be  assigned  either  to  mistake,  or,  not  improbably,  to 
voluntary  forgetfulness.  The  births  of  the  children  of 
her  first  marriage,  are  decisive  on  this  point — Eugene 
having  been  born  September  3,  17S0,  and  Ilortenso 


42 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  UI8  TIMES. 


April  10,  1783  ;  but  so  little  attention  was  paid  to 
consistency,  that  according  to  the  registry  of  her  mar¬ 
riage  with  Bonaparte,  she  must  have  been  a  mother  at 
a  little  more  than  the  age  of  ten  years.  It  is  deserv¬ 
ing  of  notice  also,  as  something  like  a  mutual  abnega¬ 
tion  of  curious  inquiry  on  this  head,  that  in  the  same 
instrument  a  year  is  added  to  Napoleon’s  age. 

From  her  earliest  years,  Josephine  appears  to  have 
displayed  those  excellencies  of  character,  and  that  ele¬ 
gance  of  demeanor,  which,  amid  some  frivolities, 
render  her  so  amiable  in  every  change  of  her  check¬ 
ered  life,  and  enabled  her,  in  gentleness,  yet  not  with¬ 
out  dignity,  to  maintain  an  influence  over  a  spirit  so 
differently  constituted  from  her  own.  From  a  child, 
opening  beauty  and  sprightliness,  united  with  perfect 
good  nature,  rendered  her  the  delight  of  her  own  cir¬ 
cle.  She  played  on  the  harp  and  sang  with  exquisite 
feeling.  Her  dancing  is  said  to  have  been  perfect. 
An  eye-witness  describes  her  light  form,  rising  scarcely 
above  the  middle  size,  as  seeming  in  its  faultless  sym¬ 
metry,  to  float  rather  than  to  move  —  the  very  person¬ 
ation  of  grace.  She  exercised  her  pencil  and  her 
needle  and  embroidering  frame  with  beautiful  ad¬ 
dress.  “  A  love  of  flowers,”  that  truly  feminine  aspi¬ 
ration,  and,  according  to  a  master  in  elegance  and 
virtue,  infallible  index  of  purity  of  heart,  was  with  her 
no  uninstructed  admiration.  She  had  early  cultivated 
a  knowledge  of  botany,  a  study  of  all  others  especially 
adapted  to  the  female  mind,  which  exercises  without 
fatiguing  the  understanding,  and  leads  the  thoughts  to 
hold  converse  with  heaven  through  the  sweetest  objects 
of  earth.  To  the  Empress  Josephine,  France  and 


CHARACTER  OF  JOSEPHINE. 


43 


Europe  are  indebted  for  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of 
vegetable  productions  —  the  camelia.  In  all  to  which 
the  empire  of  woman’s  taste  rightly  extends,  hers  was 
exquisitely  just,  and  simple  as  it  was  refined.  Her 
sense  of  file  becoming  and  the  proper  in  all  things, 
and  under  every  variety  of  circumstances,  appeared 
native  and  intuitive.  She  read  delightfully  ;  and  na¬ 
ture  had  been  here  peculiarly  propitious  :  for  so  har¬ 
monious  were  the  tones  of  her  voice,  even  in  the  most 
ordinary  conversation,  that  instances  are  common  of 
those  who,  coming  unexpectedly  and  unseen  within 
their  influence,  have  remained  as  if  suddenly  fasci¬ 
nated  and  spell-bound,  till  the  sounds  ceased,  or  fear 
of  discovery  forced  the  listener  away.  Like  the  harp 
of  David  on  the  troubled  breast  of  Israel’s  king,  this 
charm  is  known  to  have  wrought  powerfully  upon 
Napoleon.  His  own  admission  was,  uThe  first  ap¬ 
plause  of  the  French  people  sounded  to  my  ear  sweet 
as  the  voice  of  Josephine.” 

Barras  fully  redeemed  the  pledge  to  Josephine,  and 
only  twelve  days  after  his  union  with  her,  Bonaparte 
set  out  for  Italy  as  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  re* 
publican  army  in  that  country.  lie  was  animated 
with  a  fervor  and  self-confidence  which  set  at  naught 
all  impediments  ;  and  he  said  joyously  to  his  friends, 
as  he  started,  “In  three  months  you  will  see  me  again 
at  Paris,  or  will  hear  of  me  at  Milan.” 

It  was  in  no  idle  spirit  that  he  spoke  these  words ; 
for  on  the  desperate  hazard  he  was  prepared  to  stake 
the  future  of  his  life,  whether  it  should  be  disgrace  in 
failure,  or  empire  in  success.  Two  armies  were  op¬ 
posed  to  him  —  one  of  Piedmontese,  20,000  strong. 


44 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


and  the  other  of  Austrians,  35,000  strong,  between 
which  he  poured  with  his  emaciated  complement  of 
30,000.  Already,  under  the  revolutionary  impulse, 
the  tactics  of  war  had  been  materially  changed  from 
the  old  established  routine.  But  such  changes  were 
trifling  in  comparison  with  those  introduced  by  Napo¬ 
leon  Bonaparte,  who  struck  by  blows  so  sure  and  rapid, 
that  his  enemy  was  overpowered  before  he  well  knew 
that  operations  had  commenced;  and  campaigns  which, 
under  the  old  system  of  even  Marlborough  and  Frede¬ 
rick,  would  have  lingered  for  years,  were  decided  in  a 
few  weeks,  sometimes  in  a  few  days.  Thus  he  hurled 
the  Piedmontese  and  Austrians  before  him,  on  separate 
routes  of  retreat,  with  a  precipitation  which  annihilated 
resistance:  in  less  than  two  months  he  had  fought  six 
battles,  reduced  Sardinia  to  sue  for  peace,  entered 
Milan  in  triumph,  and  expelled  the  Austrians  from 
Lombardy,  driving  them  across  the  Adige,  and  into 
the  fastnesses  of  the  Tyrol.  Such  a  series  of  exploits, 
accomplished  in  so  short  a  time,  wrought  a  boundless 
amazement,  and  the  hero  of  them  was  extolled  as  a 
prodigy  superior  to  all  warriors  of  ancient  or  modern 
fame.  It  was  the  rapidity  of  his  achievements,  rather 
even  than  their  results  which  dazzled  the  imagination, 
and  marked  the  advent  of  a  new  master  in  the  great 
art  of  war.  No  conqueror  had  ever  displayed  such 
originality  of  genius,  such  boldness  of  conception,  such 
profundity  of  combination,  such  celerity  of  execution; 
and  the  sudden  interest  which  surrounded  him  wras  in¬ 
creased  by  the  novel  grandeur  of  the  language  in  which 
he  spoke  to  his  soldiers,  and  the  imperious  tone  he 
assumed  to  the  potentates  who  held  fair  Italy  in 


bonapaete’s  eakly  victories. 


45 


servitude.  At  the  bare  aspect  of  his  sword,  priestly 
and  royal  dominations  crouched  before  him;  and  the 
proud  oligarchy  of  Yenice  sent  humble  intercessions  to 
propitiate  his  wrath.  Yet  his  possession  of  Lombardy 
was  very  insecure,  for  the  house  of  Austria  was 
making  prodigious  exertions  to  wrest  it  from  him,  and 
to  recover  that  stolen  jewel  of  its  usurping  crown. 
Four  successive  armies  of  60,000  men  each  were  pushed 
down  the  gorges  of  the  Tyrol  and  across  the  Brenta, 
under  veteran  leaders  of  exalted  reputation,  to  dislodge 
him  from  his  central  position  of  Verona,  and  thence 
dislodged,  to  inflict  on  him  an  inevitable  ruin.  Against 
these  he  contended  with  a  skill  and  energy  which  have 
rendered  his  deeds  in  those  campaigns  superior  in 
renown  to  all  other  feats  of  strategy  or  heroism.  lie 
himself  has  not  surpassed  them.  They  assured  to  him 
the  definite  possession  of  Italy,  and  enabled  him,  in  a 
subsequent  campaign,  to  cross  the  Noric  Alps  and 
advance  within  twenty-five  leagues  of  Vienna,  where 
he  extorted  from  the  Emperor  the  famous  treaty  of 
Campo-Formo,  which  secured  to  France  all  the  vast 
accessions  of  territory  she  had  gained  from  the  first 
outbreak  of  the  revolutionary  war.  At  no  period  of 
her  history  had  she  concluded  so  glorious  and  advanta¬ 
geous  a  peace;  and  in  his  double  capacity  of  warrior 
and  pacificator,  Napoleon  was  received  in  Paris  with 
an  enthusiasm  befitting  the  great  services  he  had  per¬ 
formed. 

But  the  time  was  not  yet  come  for  Bonaparte’s  as¬ 
sumption  of  the  government ;  he  must  yet  gather  fresh 
laurels,  and  the  country  be  overwhelmed  with  disasters, 
ere  he  could  aspire  to  seize  supreme  authority  in  the 


46 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


republic.  It  was  not  at  a  period  when  be  bad  raised 
it  to  tbe  pinnacle  of  greatness  it  would  voluntarily 
accept  biin  for  a  sovereign  ;  a  season  of  calamity  was 
needed  to  rally  its  hopes  on  him  as  an  indispensable 
instrument  of  salvation.  His  position  at  Paris  was 
irksome  both  to  himself  and  to  the  Directory,  and  it 
was  equally  the  wish  of  both  that  he  should  forthwith 
betake  himself  again  to  active  employment.  The 
Directory  was  anxious  to  invade  England  or  Ireland. 
But  Napoleon  had  a  different  project  of  his  own, 
which  was  more  agreeable  to  those  early  fancies  he  had 
so  fondly  indulged  ;  and  he  had  not  completed  his 
conquest  of  Italy  before  he  cast  his  eyes  on  Egypt,  as 
the  next  theater  of  his  ardent  powers.  In  Egypt  he 
saw  the  commencement  of  his  visionary  subjugation 
of  Asia,  or  his  dethronement  of  the  Ottoman  sultan, 
and  an  expedition  to  conquer  it  was  sufficiently  plausi¬ 
ble  to  be  defended  on  the  ground  of  interest  to  France. 
The  possession  of  Malta  and  Egypt  was  a  prodigious 
step  toward  that  grand  traditionary  scheme  of  ren¬ 
dering  the  Mediterranean  a  French  lake,  while,  by 
opening  the  readiest  route  to  India,  it  facilitated  the 
destruction  of  England  in  a  more  certain  manner  than 
by  direct  invasion.  Upon  these  arguments  he  main¬ 
tained  the  superior  merits  of  his  project,  and  the 
Directory  was  fain  to  yield  to  them  a  reluctant  acqui¬ 
escence.  There  was  just  sufficient  of  national  advantage 
in  it  to  cloak  his  personal  desires,  to  which  at  all  times 
of  his  life  he  was  ready  to  sacrifice  ever}^  other  consid¬ 
eration.  He  embarked,  therefore,  on  his  extravagant 
but  magnificent  enterprise,  accompanied  by  the  largest 
naval  and  military  armament  that  had  ever  crossed  a 


NAPOLEON  IN  EGYPT. 


47 


wide  expanse  of  sea  ;  and  before  the  aim  of  his  expe¬ 
dition  was  known  to  the  world,  had  planted  the  repub¬ 
lican  banner  on  the  impregnable  ramparts  of  Malta, 
the  ruined  towers  of  Alexandria,  and  the  glittering 
minarets  of  the  city  of  the  Caliphs.  The  battles  of  the 
Pyramids  and  Mount  Tabor,  fought  on  fields  of  such 
imperishable  and  hallowed  recollection,  shed  a  luster 
on  tbe  French  arms,  which  was  all  the  brighter  for  the 
distance  it  traveled— for  the  unknown  regions  that  had 
witnessed  them.  The  French  were  in  raptures  at  the 
tidings,  for  the  predominant  idea  of  their  Revolution 
had  become  military  glory  and  conquest,  to  the  exclu¬ 
sion  of  all  earlier  views  touching  liberty  and  frater¬ 
nity  ;  and  the  reverses  they  were  sustaining  in  Europe 
gave  to  them  a  character  of  peculiar  consolation.  The 
Directory  was  composed  of  vulgar  and  violent  men, 
who  displayed  an  insatiable  wickedness  in  aggressions 
on  the  neighbors  of  France,  and  who  outraged  every 
law  in  the  gratification  of  its  lustful  passions.  Soon, 
its  detestable  usurpation  drew  upon  it  the  indignation 
of  combined  Europe,  and  its  desolating  armies  were 
driven  back  with  infamy  into  the  confines  of  France 
itself.  But  for  the  inveterate  cupidity  of  Austria,  and 
the  astounding  imbecility  of  England,  the  republic 
must  have  been  overthrown  at  that  time  ;  as  it  was,  it 
was  reduced  to  a  state  of  depression  and  misery  unex¬ 
ampled  among  the  retributions  that  have  been  visited 
on  the  sins  of  the  nations.  In  this  dismal  crisis,  all 
eyes  reverted  to  the  indomitable  hero  who  had  already 
elevated  France  to  such  a  pitch  of  grandeur,  from 
which  she  had  fallen  the  moment  his  sword  was  with¬ 
drawn,  and  who  alone  still  upheld  the  fame  of  her 


4S 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  I1IS  TIMES. 


victorious  flag ;  when,  at  the  critical  moment,  the  de¬ 
sired  leader  appeared,  and  converted  the  gloom  of  his 
disconsolate  countrymen  into  the  joy  of  an  anticipated 
deliverance. 

Never  was  a  country  so  ripe  to  receive  a  mastei 
fitted  to  curb  its  licentious  factions  and  to  restore  its 
vitality,  as  France  in  the  latter  part  of  1799.  For  ten 
years,  she  had  been  engaged  in  a  career  of  revolution, 
and  at  the  end  of  that  time,  her  fervent  prayer  was 
for  the  institution  of  a  despotism,  to  relieve  her  from 
the  greater  horrors  of  anarchy  and  social  dissolution. 
The  master  she  required  in  her  necessities  she  found 
in  the  person  to  whom  her  hopes  had  instinctively 
turned  —  in  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  whose  absence  she 
had  deplored  and  his  return  invoked.  On  the  9th  of 
November,  the  revolution  of  the  18th  Brumaire,  the 
last  of  the  prolific  series  since  1790,  constituted  him 
First  Consul  of  the  French  republic,  with  an  almost 
absolute  executive  authority.  His  brother  Lucien  was 
of  great  assistance  in  accomplishing  this  object,  dis¬ 
playing,  in  his  capacity  of  President  of  the  Council  of 
Five  Hundred,  a  firmness  and  courage  which  secured 
the  success  of  the  project  when  almost  on  the  point  of 
failure.  Two  subordinate  consuls  were  at  the  same 
time  created  ;  but  all  the  chief  appointments  were 
vested  in  the  First  Consul,  who  had  consequently 
abundant  means  of  rewarding  his  friends  and  parti¬ 
sans.  The  policy  he  pursued  was  the  beneficent  one 
of  amalgamating  parties  and  interests,  and  of  substi¬ 
tuting  for  the  violent  system  of  preceding  governments 
one  of  conciliation  and  clemency.  The  measures  he 
took  for  the  restoration  of  order  and  tranquillity  were 


THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 


49 


singularly  judicious  and  effective,  and,  in  a  short  time, 
lie  wrought  an  incredible  change  in  the  condition  of 
France,  which  joyfully  threw  herself  into  his  arms,  re¬ 
posing  confidently  on  his  superior  intelligence  and 
capacity.  But  internal  ameliorations  were  of  second¬ 
ary  importance  to  the  still  greater  object  of  delivering 
France  from  the  pressure  of  .foreign  enemies,  and  to 
this  FTapoleon  directed  his  unremitting  energies.  Ilis 
overtures  for  peace  being  contemptuously  rejected  by 
the  inflated  governments  of  England  and  Austria,  he- 
prepared  to  strike  a  blow,  which,  by  its  force  and  sud¬ 
denness,  should  confound  them,  and  annihilate  their 
pretensions. 

With  an  army,  of  whose  very  existence  they  were 
profoundly  ignorant,  he  crossed  the  great  chains  of  the 
Alps,  and  debouched  into  the  plains  of  Italy,  directly 
on  the  rear  of  the  Austrians,  who  were  beyond  the 
Appenines,  contemplating  an  immediate  invasion  of 
Provence.  These,  precipitately  retrograding,  to  regain 
their  communications,  he  encountered  and  vanquished 
on  the  memorable  field  of  Marengo,  through  which 
event  he  again  became,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days, 
complete  master  of  the  whole  of  Italy.  Austria  was 
smitten  to  the  heart  by  so  unlooked-for  and  miraculous 
a  disaster,  and  she  sent  an  envoy  with  plaintive  propo¬ 
sitions  to  treat  of  peace.  But  England  strove  to  revive 
her  palsied  courage  by  dint  of  replenished  subsidies, 
and  she  was  induced,  with  desperate  resolution,  to  try 
the  fortunes  of  another  campaign.  This  proved  equally 
calamitous,  and  nothing  remained  for  her  but  to  submit 
to  the  will  of  the  conqueror  she  had  unwisely  defied. 
At  Luneville,  accordingly,  on  the  9th  of  February, 

8 


50 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


1S01,  she  signed  a  treaty  infinitely  more  disadvan¬ 
tageous  to  her  than  that  of  Campo-Formo,  and  one 
which  assured  to  France  an  aggrandizement  wholly 
inconsistent  with  the  old  balance  of  power  in  Europe. 
Nevertheless,  to  this  sad  termination  of  all  her  strug¬ 
gles  against  the  Revolution,  England  herself  was 
reduced  to  accede:  placed  in  a  melancholy  isolation 
against  the  power  of  the  colossal  republic,  she,  too, 
succumbed,  and  concluded  a  treaty  at  Amiens,  in 
March,  1802,  in  order  to  gain  at  least  a  temporary 
respite  from  the  afflictions  of  war.  Thus  did  Napoleon 
lift  France,  from  an  abyss  of  degradation,  to  the  very 
highest  rank  among  the  nations  of  the  earth  ;  and 
while  he  endowed  her  with  this  envied  supremacy, 
healed  the  festering  sores  of  her  internal  maladies, 
and  conferred  on  her  a  peace  and  prosperity  she  had 
never  known  since  she  embarked  in  her  wild  crusade 
against  kings,  nobles,  and  priests.  Commensurate  was 
the  gratitude  of  her  enraptured  people,  who  were  ready 
to  testify  it  by  any  inordinate  expression  agreeable  to 
the  ambition  of  their  benefactor  and  idol. 

During  the  short  interval  between  the  18th  Brumaire 
and  the  peace  of  Amiens,  Napoleon  appears  clothed 
with  a  majesty  and  glory  which  throws  far  into  the 
shade  the  luster  of  monarchs  cradled  in  royalty.  Not 
only  did  he  beat  to  pieces  the  formidable  coalition  ar¬ 
rayed  to  extinguish  France,  but  all  his  conduct  in  this 
happy  era  of  his  life  was  marked  by  a  wisdom  and  be¬ 
neficence  which  stands  in  dazzling  contrast  with  the 
folly  and  iniquities  of  his  subsequent  career.  In  his 
restoration  of  religion  alone,  against  the  most  inveterate 
prejudice  confirmed  in  the  course  of  the  Revolution,  he 


ARROGANCE  OF  NAPOLEON. 


51 


rendered  to  a  benighted  land  the  greatest  good  it 
could  receive,  and  the  indispensable  guardian  of  society, 
but  which  it  would  certainly  not  have  accepted  from 
any  hands  save  his  alone.  Yet  rarely  has  the  intoxica¬ 
tion  of  power  been  so  quick  and  overwhelming  in  its 
corruption  of  the  mind  and  the  understanding,  as  in 
the  instance  of  this  extraordinary  individual.  He 
almost  straightway  became  the  slave  of  passions  that 
grew  in  their  evil  intensity  with  every  gratification 
which  fed  them,  until  they  reached  a  height  which 
overmastered  his  reason  and  transformed  him  into  the 
very  curse  of  humanity.  The  arrogance  of  the  language 
he  habitually  used  toward  foreign  courts  —  particu¬ 
larly  the  British,  which  he  thoroughly  despised — was 
altogether  insufferable ;  while  he  recklessly  seized 
upon  dominions  that  opposed  him,  regardless  of  all 
guarantees  imposed  by  either  good  faith,  policy,  or 
public  law.  Hence  he  rendered  relations  of  peace  im¬ 
possible  with  him,  unless  on  the  part  of  miserable 
trucklers  like  the  king  of  Prussia. 

Encouraged  by  the  admiration  and  homage  of  the 
whole  nation  of  Frenchmen,  he  constituted  himself 
their  Emperor;  and  amidst  an  adulation  exceeding  the 
abjectness  of  degenerate  Greeks,  established  an  empire 
unmatched  for  the  rigor  of  its  despotism  and  the  splen¬ 
dor  of  its  emblazonries.  To  consecrate  this  culminating 
phase  of  the  Revolution,  he  summoned  to  Paris  the 
head  of  the  Catholic  church,  and  exhibited  to  the  as¬ 
tonished  universe  the  spectacle  of  a  pope  anointing  in 
Notre-Dame  the  plebeian  but  august  warrior,  who  had 
the  papacy  shorn  of  the  territorial  grandeur  it  had 
labored  so  bard  in  by-gone  ageB  to  secure. 


62 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


Among  all  tlie  vices  of  Napoleon’s  character,  he 
cannot  assuredly  be  charged  with  want  of  affection  for 
his  family,  since  he  displayed  toward  those  connected 
with  him  an  attachment  and  regard  which  was  often 
detrimental  to  him.  His  wife,  Josephine,  was  particu¬ 
larly  dear  to  him,  although  her  conduct  on  many  occa¬ 
sions  was  not  altogether  blameless.  His  letters  to 
her  at  every  period  of  their  union,  are  replete  with 
expressions  of  the  warmest  devotion  ;  and  if  at  any 
time  she  seemed  to  disregard  his  wishes,  it  was  through 
a  wayward  levity,  which  left  her  scarcely  mistress  of 
herself.  He  was  supremely  fond  of  her  society.  That 
she  had  borne  him  no  children  was  a  subject  of  incon¬ 
solable  regret,  but  he  cherished  those  of  her  former 
husband  as  if  they  were  his  own.  Both  of  them 
possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  the  attractive  qualities 
of  their  mother  ;  and  Napoleon  heaped  upon  them  con¬ 
tinual  evidences  of  his  affection.  Eugene  had  acted 
as  his  aid-de-camp,  both  in  Italy  and  in  Egypt ;  at 
Marengo,  he  had  commanded  a  brigade  of  the  Guard  ; 
in  1804,  he  was  made  an  imperial  prince  and  arch¬ 
chancellor  of  state ;  in  1805,  immediately  after  Na¬ 
poleon’s  coronation  at  Milan,  he  was  nominated  viceroy 
of  Italy,  and  subsequently,  Prince  of  Venice,  and  heir 
of  the  Lombardo-Venetian  crown.  Hortense  was  de¬ 
signed  by  Napoleon  to  be  given  in  marriage  to  his 
favorite  aid-de-camp,  Duroc,  whose  handsome  person 
and  gallant  bearing  had  already  won  her  girlish  admi¬ 
ration.  But  Josephine  artfully  opposed  this  arrange¬ 
ment,  from  a  natural  anxiety  she  labored  under  of 
drawing  still  closer  the  ties  that  united  her  with  her 
husband ;  for  her  barrenness  had  already  become  the 


MARRIAGE  OF  LOUIS  AND  HORTENSE. 


53 


theme  of  opprobrium  on  the  part  of  Joseph  and  Lu- 
cien,  who  labored  assiduously  with  their  brother  to  im¬ 
press  upon  him  the  expediency  of  a  divorce.  On  this 
account,  she  was  intent  to  bring  about  a  marriage 
between  Louis  Bonaparte  and  Hortense,  through  which 
she  hoped  to  defeat  the  insidious  suggestions  of  her 
enemies.  But  serious  obstacles  stood  in  the  way  of 
her  accomplishing  her  design  ;  for  the  young  couple 
had  an  absolute  antipathy  toward  each  other,  and 
both  were  actually  in  love  with  other  parties.  {Louis 
had  become  enamored  of  Josephine’s  niece  —  Louise- 
Emilie,  daughter  of  Francis,  Marquis  de  Beauharnais, 
her  first  husband’s  elder  brother  —  without,  however, 
engaging  the  young  lady’s  affections  in  return.  Louis, 
whose  character  was  naturally  of  a  pensive  cast,  took 
his  disappointment  grievously  to  heart ;  and,  joined 
to  an  infirm  state  of  health,  it  produced  in  him  a 
melancholy  which  preyed  on  him  all  the  remainder  of 
his  life.  He  never  ceased  to  mourn  the  loss  he  had 
sustained  ;  and  when  the  proposition  of  a  union  with 
Hortense  was  made  to  him,  he  recoiled  from  it  with 
abhorrence.  He  resisted  all  persuasions  with  a  settled 
determination ;  and  it  was  only  by  much  skillful 
maneuvering  that  Josephine  at  length  succeeded  in 
extorting  his  consent.  She  had  wrung  from  her 
daughter,  too,  an  unwilling  acquiescence  ;  and  on  the 
4th  of  January,  1802,  the  ill-assorted  knot  was  tied  — 
the  gloomy  countenances  of  the  affianced  belying  the 
factitious  joy  of  the  courtly  retinue  that  graced  their 
inauspicious  nuptials. 

“Without  connubial  Juno’s  aid  they  wed  : 

Nor  Hymen  nor  the  Graces  bless  the  bed  I  ” 


54 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


“  Never, ”  exclaims  Louis,  in  a  tone  of  anguish,  “  was 
there  a  more  gloomy  ceremony  ?  Never  had  husband 
and  wife  a  stronger  presentiment  of  the  horrors  of  a 
reluctant  and  ill-assorted  union !  ”  Louis  was  then 
twenty-four,  and  Hortense  about  eighteen.  From  this 
he  dates  the  commencement  of  his  unhappiness,  his 
bodily  and  mental  sufferings.  It  stamped  on  his  whole 
existence  a  profound  melancholy,  a  dejection,  a  drying 
of  the  heart,  which,  he  adds,  “nothing  ever  could,  or 
ever  will  remedy.”  As  for  Hortense,  who  had  only 
left  Madame  Campan’s  boarding-school  a  few  weeks 
before  the  wedding,  a  lady  who  was  present  at  a  ball 
given  in  honor  of  it  by  Madame  de  Montesson,  states, 
that  “  every  countenance  beamed  with  satisfaction, 
save  that  of  the  bride,  whose  profound  melancholy 
formed  a  sad  contrast  to  the  happiness  which  she 
might  have  been  expected  to  evince  :  she  seemed  to 
shun  her  husband’s  very  looks,  lest  he  should  read  in 
hers  the  indifference  she  felt  toward  him.  Covered 
wTith  diamonds  and  flowers,  she  appeared  insensible  to 
every  thing  save  regret.  From  that  day,  sorrow  might 
easily  have  been  augured  from  a  marriage  where  the 
contracting  parties  were  so  little  agreeable  to  each 
other.” 

The  correspondence  between  Duroc  and  Hortense, 
had  been  so  long  and  so  openly  conducted,  as  to  be 
known  to  several  members  of  the  consular  household. 
The  moral  character  of  Hortense  was  scarcely  above 
reproach.  Although  married  to  Louis  at  the  early  age 
of  eighteen,  she  is  said  to  have  had  two  children 
before  her  union  with  him,  one  of  whom  died  in  in¬ 
fancy,  and  the  other  is  still  living  and  holding  an  office 


JOSEMINE  TO  HORTENSE. 


55 


of  considerable  dignity  under  the  French  government. 
Fouche  even  goes  so  far  as  to  intimate  that  the 
object  of  the  alliance  was  to  throw  a  vail  over  an  al¬ 
ready  existing  intimacy  between  Napoleon  and  his 
step-daughter.  Certain  it  is,  that  Josephine  knew  of 
these  allegations,  so  injurious  to  her  honor  and  her 
peace.  From  the  following  letter,  indeed,  written  long 
afterward,  it  not  only  appears  that  she  was  well  aware 
of  them,  but  that  Hortense,  in  one  to  which  this  is  the 
answer,  had  accused  her  mother  of  being  opposed  to 
the  separation  from  Louis,  as  giving  credit  to  the 
reports  of  having  a  rival  in  her  daughter. 

JOSEPHINE  TO  HORTENSE. 

“  You  have  ill-understood  me,  my  child  ;  there  is 
nothing  equivocal  in  my  words,  as  there  cannot  exist 
an  uncandid  sentiment  in  my  heart.  How  could  you 
conceive  that  I  participate  in  some  ridiculous,  or  per¬ 
haps,  malicious  opinions  ?  No!  you  do  not  think  that 
I  believe  you  to  be  my  rival.  We,  indeed,  both  reign 
in  the  same  bosom,  though  by  very  different,  yet 
equally  sacred  rights  ;  and  they  who,  in  the  affection 
which  my  husband  manifests  for  you,  have  pretended 
to  discover  other  sentiments  than  those  of  a  parent  and 
a  friend,  know  not  his  soul.  Ilis  is  a  mind  too  ele¬ 
vated  above  the  vulgar  ever  to  be  accessible  to  the  pas¬ 
sions.  That  of  glory,  if  you  will,  engrosses  him  too 
entirely  for  our  repose ;  but,  at  least,  glory  inspires 
nothing  vile.  Such,  as  touching  him,  is  my  profession 
of  faith.  I  make  the  confession  to  you  in  all  sincerity, 
in  order  to  allay  your  inquietudes.  When  I  recom¬ 
mended  to  you  to  love,  or,  at  least,  not  to  repulse  Louis, 
I  spoke  to  you  in  my  character  of  an  experienced  wife, 
an  attentive  mother,  and  tender  friend,  and  in  this 
threefold  relation  do  I  now  embrace  you.” 

On  the  accession  of  Napoleon  to  the  imperial  dig¬ 
nity,  (18th  May,  1804,)  it  became  of  paramount 


56 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


importance  with  the  founder  of  the  dynasty,  to  decide 
how  and  by  whom  it  should  be  perpetuated.  lie  had 
himself  no  offspring,  and  therefore  must  choose  a  col¬ 
lateral  heir.  The  imperial  crown  was  settled  on  his 
male  descendants  —  these  failing,  on  those  of  Joseph, 
and  next,  on  those  of  Louis.  The  exclusion  of  Lucien 
and  Jerome,  shows  that  they  were  not  in  such  favor 
with  the  Emperor  as  the  other  two  brothers.  When  the 
decree  was  referred  for  ratification  to  the  French  peo¬ 
ple,  (27th  November,  1804,)  3,521,675  affirmative,  and 
only  2,579  negative  votes  were  recorded. 

Having  thus  settled  the  foundations  of  his  empire, 
as  he  deemed,  on  an  imperishable  basis,  the  warlike 
Corsican  prepared  to  wage  battle  against  the  confeder¬ 
ated  powers  of  Europe,  and  exalt  his  greatness  to  a  yet 
more  colossal  height :  and,  in  truth,  the  armies  of  the 
continent  were  extinguished  by  him  with  a  facility 
which  might  well  inflate  him  with  notions  of  his  om- 
nipotence  on  earth.  At  Ulm  and  Austerlitz  he  pros¬ 
trated  the  Austrian  empire  ;  at  Jena  he  dissolved  in  a 
day  the  accumulated  dominion  of  Frederick  and  the 
house  of  Brandenburg  ;  at  Friedland  he  annihilated 
the  martial  host  of  barbaric  Russia  ;  at  Tilsit  he  bound 
the  successor  of  the  savage  Romanzoffs  captive  to  his 
chariot,  and  whirled  him  to  the  precipice  on  which  he 
had  well-nigh  met  his  ruin.  Then  supreme  dominator 
of  the  potentates  he  suffered  to  reign  in  corners  of 
their  former  territories,  he  trod  upon  their  necks  with 
a  pride  and  insolence  wholly  unparalleled.  From  Na¬ 
ples  he  expelled  the  hostile  race  of  Bourbons,  and 
placed  on  its  throne  his  brother  Joseph  ;  in  Holland 
he  planted  Louis  as  king ;  and  at  Cassel,  across  the 


TILE  FAMILY  OF  KINGS. 


57 


Rhine,  over  a  heterogeneous  compound  called  the 
kingdom  of  AVestphalia,  he  fixed  Jerome  as  a  mon¬ 
arch.  Caroline  he  gratified  by  making  her  husband 
Grand-Duke  of  Berg,  constituting  him  a  sovereign  over 
300,000  wretched  Germans.  This  system  of  vassal- 
fiefs  he  completed  by  the  confederation  of  the  Rhine, 
in  which  he  enrolled  the  second-class  powers  of  Ger¬ 
many  as  his  immediate  dependents  —  such  as  Saxony, 
Bavaria,  and  AVurtemburg,  whose  reigning  princes  he 
created  kings.  Thus  he  obliterated  the  ancient  Ger¬ 
man  empire,  and  absorbed  the  greatest  part  of  it 
within  the  folds  of  his  exorbitant  ascendancy.  But 
even  such  aggrandizements  were  insufficient  to  appease 
the  devouring  lusts  of  his  heart.  lie  must  needs  form 
alliances  with  sovereign  houses.  Accordingly,  he 
united  his  adopted  son  Eugene  to  the  eldest  daughter 
of  the  king  of  Bavaria ;  and  having  compelled  Jerome 
to  discard  his  fair  American,  he  extorted  from  the  re¬ 
luctant  king  of  AVurtemburg  his  daughter  Catharine 
as  a  wife  for  his  graceless  majesty  of  AVestphalia.  A 
niece  of  the  Empress  Josephine,  Stephanie  de  Beau- 
harnais,  he  married  to  the  hereditary  prince  of  Baden  ; 
while  another  niece,  the  beautiful  Mademoiselle  de 
Tascher,  being  created  a  French  princess  for  the  occa¬ 
sion,  was  given  in  wedlock  to  the  young  heir  of  the 
house  of  Aremburg.  By  these  courtly  alliances  he 
thought  to  consolidate  his  sway,  to  extend  the  ramifi¬ 
cations  of  his  influence,  and  to  have  the  obscurity 
of  his  origin  forgotten.  It  is  melancholy  that  so 
witless  a  conceit,  and  so  poor  a  vanity,  should  have 
overmastered  one  of  the  mightiest  of  human  under¬ 
standings!  Upon  all  these  distributions  and  alliances 


58 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


of  her  sons  and  daughters,  the  venerable  Madame 
Lsetitia  is  said  to  have  looked  with  a  calm  and  only 
half-believing  eye,  living  quietly  at  Paris,  and  care¬ 
fully  economizing  her  income.  “  Who  knows,”  she  is 
reported  to  have  said,  “  but  I  may  have  to  keep  all 
those  kings  and  queens  one  day?  ” 

When,  to  the  facts  above  enumerated,  we  add  that 
Prussia  and  Austria  were  servile  through  defeat,  that 
Sweden  was  governed  by  the  Frenchman  Bernadotte,  a 
relative  of  the  Bonapartes,  that  Kussia  was  acquiescent, 
and  that  only  Great  Britain  was  stubborn  and  irrecon¬ 
cilable,  we  shall  have  an  idea  of  the  distance  that 
Napoleon  had  advanced  in  the  path  to  universal  em¬ 
pire.  To  secure  what  had  already  been  attained,  to 
put  all  else  within  his  grasp,  and  to  give  to  the  work 
of  his  life  that  roundness  and  finish  that  he  wished  it 
to  have  in  the  eyes  of  posterity,  only  one  thing  further 
seemed  necessary  —  his  own  marriage,  namely,  with  a- 
princess  of  the  house  of  Austria.  By  such  a  measure, 
it  seemed,  two  things  would  be  accomplished  —  the 
East  of  Europe  would  be  permanently  linked  with  the 
West,  forming  a  confederacy  so  vast  in  the  body,  that 
mere  extremities  like  Kussia,  Sweden,  and  Great 
Britain,  would  be  forced  to  give  in  to  it ;  and  the  tri¬ 
umphant  work  of  modern  genius  would  be  guaranteed 
in  a  manner  satisfactory  to  the  spirit  of  progressive 
civilization,  by  being  grafted  on  the  gnarled  stock  of 
the  whole  European  past.  By  such  calculations  of  a 
moral  algebra,  did  Napoleon  reconcile  himself  to  these 
two  important  steps  in  his  life  —  his  divorce  from  the 
Empress  Josephine,  registered  the  10th  of  December, 
1809  ;  and  his  marriage  with  the  Archduchess  Maria- 


WATERLOO. 


59 


Louisa,  daughter  of  Francis  II.  To  consummate  all 
his  expectations  from  this  marriage,  only  one  thing 
remained  to  be  desired  —  the  birth  of  a  son.  In  this 
also  his  wishes  were  satisfied  ;  and  on  the  20th  of 
March,  1811.  the  booming  of  a  hundred  and  one  guns 
over  Paris  proclaimed  the  birth  of  a  King  of  Pome. 
At  his  christening,  a  few  days  afterward,  the  imperial 
child  received  the  name  of  Napoleon-Francois. 

But  the  star  of  Napoleon  had  reached  its  zenith. 
The  disastrous  invasion  of  Russia,  followed  by  the  mem¬ 
orable  campaigns  of  1813-14,  laid  the  work  of  years 
in  ruins  ;  the  entry  of  the  allied  armies  into  Paris, 
31st  March,  1814,  was  the  crowning  stroke  of  misfor¬ 
tune  ;  and  on  the  4th  of  April  was  signed  the  famous 
act  whereby  Napoleon  unconditionally  abdicated,  for 
himself  and  his  heirs,  the  empire  he  had  so  long  held. 
Retaining  the  imperial  title,  and  receiving  from 
France,  as  a  tribute  for  his  past  services,  an  annual 
revenue  of  six  millions  of  francs,  ($1,200,000,)  the  con¬ 
queror  was  to  be  shut  up  for  the  rest  of  his  days,  a 
splendid  European  relic,  in  the  little  island  of  Elba. 
For  ten  months  he  endured  the  captivity,  the  assem¬ 
bled  diplomatists  of  Europe,  meanwhile,  re-arranging  at 
Vienna,  the  chaos  that  he  had  left  behind  him  ;  but  at 
length  the  old  spirit  prevailed  in  him  ;  France  again 
contained  the  Emperor ;  Louis  XVIII.  fled  ;  and  the 
fluttered  diplomatists,  kicking  over  the  table  at  which 
they  had  been  sitting,  had  to  postpone  further  proceed¬ 
ings  till  they  should  again  have  caged  their  imperial 
bird.  But  the  struggle  was  short ;  the  last  hopes  of 
Napoleon  were  crushed  on  the  field  of  Waterloo  ;  and 
a  few  months  more  saw  him  confined  to  the  distant 


60 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  niS  TIMES. 


and  solitary  rock,  where,  May  5th,  1821,  he  closed 
his  extraordinary  career. 

From  the  first,  Louis  and  Hortense  pretended  to  no 
regard  for  each  other,  and  from  the  date  of  their  mar¬ 
riage,  in  January,  1802,  to  that  of  their  final  sepa¬ 
ration,  in  September,  1807,  they  were  not  together 
more  than  four  months  in  the  whole,  and  that  at  three 
wide  intervals.  As  soon  as  the  political  necessities 
that  had  kept  them  together,  ceased  to  exist,  they 
separated  by  mutual  consent.  Hortense  went  to  Paris, 
where  she  resided  in  great  splendor  at  court,  and 
where  her  third  son,  the  subject  of  this  memoir, 
was  born,  April  20,  1808.  Napoleon  Charles,  the  first 
son  of  Louis  and  Hortense,  was  born  October  10th, 
1802,  and  Napoleon  Louis,  the  second,  October  11, 
1804.  Charles  Louis  Napoleon,  (or,  as  he  now  calls 
himself,  Louis  Napoleon,)  was  the  first  prince  of  the 
family  born  after  Napoleon  had  assumed  the  title  of 
Emperor,  and  his  birth  was  celebrated  in  the  most 
magnificent  manner.  Salvos  of  artillery  announced 
along  the  whole  line  of  the  “  grande  armee ,”  through¬ 
out  the  vast  extent  of  the  empire,  that  another  heir  to 
the  imperial  scepter  was  born.  France  was  at  that 
time  in  the  apogee  of  its  grandeur.  The  genius  of 
Bonaparte  was  reorganizing  Europe,  and,  in  order  to 
give  to  his  power  on  the  continent  an  appearance  of. 
predominance,  the  Emperor  received  with  joy  the  new¬ 
born  male  heir  to  his  political  fortunes.  At  this  su¬ 
perb  epoch,  his  divorce  from  Josephine  had  not  been 
seriously  contemplated.  His  nephews  were,  therefore, 
considered  by  him  as  the  future  continuators  of  his 
projects,  name  and  power.  Napoleon  Charles,  had 


DEATH  OF  PRINCE  NAPOLEON  CHARLES. 


61 


evinced,  from  earliest  infancy,  the  happiest  disposi¬ 
tions,  and  had  gained,  in  an  astonishing  manner,  upon 
the  affections  and  hopes  of  his  uncle.  He  was,  besides, 
the  first-born  ;  and  except  his  two  brothers,  the  only 
acknowledged  son  of  the  imperial  family  in  direct 
male  lineage  ;  his  father  was  the  Emperor’s  favorite 
brother,  and  his  birth  drew  more  closely  the  ties  which 
united  his  wife  and  her  children  to  the  affections  of 
Napoleon.  There  appears,  therefore,  no  reason  for 
discrediting  the  belief  then  generally  entertained  of 
the  Emperor’s  intention  to  adopt  the  child.  Thus,  in 
the  offspring  of  her  daughter,  Josephine  would  have 
given  a  successor  to  the  throne  of  France,  and,  as  has 
been  remarked  by  a  French  writer,  “her  own  sorrows, 
perhaps  all  the  evils  that  followed,  might  have  been 
prevented.” 

The  boy  upon  whom  the  destinies  of  so  great  an  em¬ 
pire  may  thus  be  said  to  have  rested,  died  at  the  Hague, 
(1807)  after  a  few  hours’  illness,  of  the  croup.  So  sud¬ 
den  and  fatal  was  the  attack,  that  before  Corvisart’s 
directions  could  be  received,  which,  from  his  knowl¬ 
edge  of  the  complaint,  might  have  proved  effectual, 
the  child  had  ceased  to  live.*  Ilortense  never  cpiitted 
the  room  for  an  instant.  When  all  was  over,  her 
attendants  endeavored  gently  to  wile  her  from  the 
apartment :  but  divining  their  purpose,  even  in  the 
distraction  of  grief,  she  clung  with  such  convulsive 
grasp  to  a  sofa  by  the  bed  of  her  child,  that  her  arms 
could  not  be  unfolded,  and  she  was  carried  out  in  this 
condition.  For  hours  the  most  alarming  apprehensions 

•  @orvisart.  Napoleon’s  private  physician,  was  the  first  who  made 
■uccess/tU  researches  .00  this  disease. 


62 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


were  entertained  for  tlie  queen’s  life.  In  vain  were 
remedies  applied ;  her  eyes  continued  fixed  and 
without  a  tear,  her  breathing  oppressed,  and  her  limbs 
rigid  and  motionless,  till  one  of  the  chamberlains, 
bearing  in  the  dead  body  of  the  little  prince,  laid  it  on 
the  mother’s  knees,  leaving  the  rest  to  nature.  The 
sight  of  her  son,  now  shrouded  in  the  peaceful  attire  of 
the  grave,  recalled  the  unhappy  Hortense  to  a  more 
present  and  tender  sentiment  of  her  loss  ;  she  caught 
the  inanimate  form  to  her  bosom,  and  despair  yielded 
to  the  sweet  agony  of  tears. 

To  Josephine  this  loss  was  irremediable  ;  hers  was 
a  grief  not  less  acute,  yet  greater  than  a  mother’s 
sorrow  ;  for  while  she  grieved  for  a  beloved  child,  she 
trembled  to  think  what  might  be  the  consequence  to 
herself.  Naturally  fond  of  children,  she  had  loved  the 
young  Napoleon  Charles  with  a  tenderness  corre¬ 
sponding  to  the  hopes  concentrated  on  his  head.  After 
receiving  intelligence  of  a  bereavement  which  had 
reached  her,  before  she  had  perfect  knowledge  that  the 
blow  was  menaced,  she  shut  herself  up  for  three  days, 
wiping  bitterly  ;  and,  as  if  to  nourish  grief,  collecting 
around  her  his  portrait,  his  hair,  his  playthings, — 
every  relic  that  might  recall  the  image  of  her  grandson. 
A  melancholy  coincidence  added  to  the  poignancy  of 
her  sorrow  on  the  sight  of  the  portrait.  Some  time 
before  setting  out  for  the  campaign  of  Tilsit,  the  Em¬ 
peror  had  held  a  review  of  the  guard,  and,  on  retiring 
to  his  apartments  in  the  Tuileries,  had,  according  to 
custom,  flung  his  sword  on  one  seat  and  his  hat  on 
another,  continuing  to  walk  through  the  saloon  in 
conversation  with  Josephine.  Meanwhile,  the  child 


ANECDOTES  OF  NAPOLEON  CHARLES. 


63 


had  entered  unobserved,  and,  putting  the  sword-belt 
over  his  little  neck,  and  the  hat  upon  his  head,  began 
to  follow  behind  his  uncle  with  military  step,  attempt¬ 
ing,  at  the-  same  time,  to  whistle  a  favorite  march. 
Napoleon  turned  round,  took  the  boy  in  his  arms,  and 
kissed  him  fondly,  saying,  “  See,  Josephine,  what  a 
charming  picture !  ”  The  empress,  ever  studious  to 
gratify  her  husband,  had  the  young  prince  painted  in 
this  costume  by  Gerard.  The  portrait  was  sent  to  St. 
Cloud  on  the  very  morning  which  brought  the  sad 
intelligence  of  the  death  of  the  original. 

The  boy  was  very  like  his  father,  and,  consequently, 
bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  Emperor.  His  hair 
was  fair,  his  eyes  blue,  and  his  countenance  marked 
with  extraordinary  intelligence.  He  was  likewise  ex¬ 
tremely  fond  of  his  uncle,  who,  in  turn,  doted  upon 
him  as  if  he  had  been  his  own  child.  One  morning, 
when  silently  making  his  way  through  the  saloon, 
amid  a  crowd  of  distinguished  personages,  Murat,  then 
Grand-Duke  of  Berg,  caught  him  in  his  arms.  “  What ! 
Napoleon,  not  bid  me  good  morning!”  “No,”  said 
the  child,  disengaging  himself,  “  not  before  my  uncle 
the  Emperor .”  In  like  manner,  every  thing  he  re¬ 
ceived  from  his  uncle  was  preferred  to  all  others. 
King  Louis,  who  loved  him  tenderly,  seeing  he  disre¬ 
garded  some  new  playthings  he  had  just  brought  him, 
said,  “Why,  my  dear  child,  look  how  very  ugly  the 
old  ones  are  !  ”  “  Ah !  yes,  papa,  but  I  got  them  from 

my  uncle.” 

What  chiefly  delighted  Napoleon  was,  the  firmness 
of  character,  and,  if  the  desires  of  the  child  may  be 
so  termed,  the  predilection  for  war  displayed  by  his 


G4 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


intended  heir.  Often,  in  their  amusements,  the  Em¬ 
peror  would  put  these  qualities  to  curious  but  severe 
tests.  At  breakfast,  he  would  seat  him  upon  his  knee, 
making  the  poor  little  fellow  taste  of  such  things  as 
are  usually  most  annoying  to  children  ;  the  spirited 
boy  would  try  to  look  stern,  but  never  refused  to  take 
what  was  offered,  though  spite  and  vexation  were 
painted  on  every  feature  of  his  really  beautiful  coun¬ 
tenance.  Strawberries  (and  it  is  curious  that  the  fruit 
produced  similar  effects  on  Maria  Louisa’s  son)  always 
brought  on  severe  indisposition.  Though  a  favorite 
dish,  they  were,  of  course,  strictly  prohibited  ;  but  one 
day  the  prince  had  so  wrought  upon  his  nurse,  that 
she  permitted  him  to  eat  a  large  quantity.  The  usual 
consequence  ensued  ;  he  was  attacked  by  sickness  and 
vomiting.  Hortense  insisted  on  knowing  who  had  dis¬ 
obeyed  her  orders.  “  Mamma,”  said  the  courageous 
boy,  though  still  suffering,  “  you  may  punish  me,  but  I 
gave  my  word  not  to  tell,  and  I  will  never  break  my 
promise.”  An  affecting  circumstance  is  the  solicitude 
shown  by  this  singular  child  in  his  parents’  misunder¬ 
standings  ;  on  observing  their  estrangement,  he  would 
take  his  father’s  hand,  who  thus  suffered  himself  to  be 
conducted  to  the  queen,  and  the  artless  pleadings  of 
their  son  rarely  failed  to  reconcile  two  beings  possess¬ 
ing  great  goodness  of  heart,  but  both  suffering  from 
the  not  uncommon  calamity  in  married  life  of  misun¬ 
derstanding  each  other’s  feelings. 

The  most  brilliant  honors  and  the  solemnity  of  public 
rejoicings  attended  the  birth  of  Louis  Napoleon.  A 
family  register  for  the  children  of  the  imperial  dynasty 
was  deposited  in  the  senate,  as  the  great  book  of  the 


PRINCE  LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 


65 


right  of  succession.  The  name  of  the  new  prince  was 
there  inscribed  with  much  pomp.  The  King  of  Rome 
was  the  second  and  only  one  after  him.  The  former 
was  baptized  in  1811,  at  the  palace  ol  Fontainbleau. 

The  prince,  Charles  Louis  Napoleon,  third  son  of 
Louis  Bonaparte  and  Queen  Hortense,  was  a  child 
greatly  beloved  by  the  Emperor,  who  was  accustomed 
to  draw  amusements  from,  and  find  recreation  in,  his 
innocent  prattle  ;  it  often  served  as  a  distraction  in  the 
midst  of  those  weighty  cares  and  meditations  which 
constantly  occupied  his  mind.  Napoleon  gave  to  his 
family  nothing  but  the  brief  season  of  his  repasts.  He 
breakfasted  in  his  cabinet,  and  alone,  at  a  small  table, 
which  no  one  except  the  two  sons  of  the  king  of  Hol¬ 
land  ever  shared.  He  would  often  send  for  them  in 
order  to  inform  himself  of  the  progress  of  their 
studies,  and  to  watch  the  development  of  the  ideas  of 
the  two  princes,  upon  whom  rested  the  hopes  of  his 
future.  He  questioned  them  with  interest,  amused 
himself  with  their  innocent  conversation,  and  always 
made  them  recite  fables  of  his  own  selection,  of  which 
he  gave  them  explanations,  and  afterward  asked  them 
for  an  account,  as  an  exercise  of  their  young  under¬ 
standings.  Their  progress  was  one  of  the  greatest 
sources  of  his  satisfaction  and  delight. 

On  his  return  from  Elba,  he  saw  the  children  again, 
with  renewed  pleasure,  and  his  happiness  at  their 
health  and  progress,  was  the  greater,  because  he  had 
been  then  deprived  of  his  own  son,  who  was  in  Vienna. 
His  nephews  appeared  to  fill  his  place  in  Napoleon’s 
affections.  He  was  desirous  that  they  should  be  con¬ 
stantly  near  him,  and  under  his  own  eyes.  At  that 


66 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  DIS  TIMES. 


time  Prince  Louis  Napoleon  was  seven  years  old.  One 
day,  the  eve  of  the  Emperor’s  departure  for  the  fatal 
campaign  of  Waterloo,  Napoleon  had  just  entered  his 
cabinet ;  he  appeared  anxious  and  sad,  and  the  brevity 
and  sharpness  of  his  words  revealed  the  deep  and 
engrossing  thoughts  which  occupied  his  mind.  Sud¬ 
denly  a  young  boy  slipped  into  the  apartment  and 
approached  the  Emperor  ;  his  whole  countenance  was 
impressed  with  an  air  of  sorrow,  and  his  whole  pro¬ 
ceedings  gave  evidence  that  he  was  under  the  influ¬ 
ence  of  some  deep  emotion,  which  he  was  endeavoring 
to  restrain.  The  child,  having  approached,  threw  him¬ 
self  on  his  knees  before  the  Emperor,  hid  his  head  in 
his  lap,  and  clasped  his  legs  with  his  arms,  and  then 
his  tears  began  to  flow  in  abundance.  “  What  ails 
you,  Louis  ?  ”  cried  the  Emperor,  in  a  tone  which  indi¬ 
cated  his  annoyance  at  the  interruption.  “  Why  havo 
you  come?  For  what  are  you  crying?”  The  child, 
frightened  by  his  manner,  could  only  reply  by  sobs. 
Having,  however,  by  degrees  recovered  confidence  and 
become  calm,  he  at  last  said,  with  a  sweet,  but  melan¬ 
choly  voice  —  “Sire,  my  governess  has  just  told  me 
that  you  are  about  to  set  out  for  the  war !  Oh !  do  not 
go !  do  not  go !  ”  “  But  why  do  you  not  wish  me  to 
go?”  said  the  Emperor,  with  a  voice  suddenly  ren¬ 
dered  mild  by  the  solicitude  of  his  youthful  nephew  — 
for  it  was  Prince  Louis  Napoleon,  the  young  favorite 
of  the  Emperor.  “Why  do  you  not  wish  me  to  go, 
my  child  ?  ”  repeated  he,  lifting  up  his  head,  and  run¬ 
ning  his  fingers  through  his  beautiful  light  hair.  “  It 
is  not  the  first  time  I  have  left  for  the  war.  Do  not 
be  alarmed  —  fear  nothing,  for  I  shall  soon  return.” 


PRESENTIMENT. 


67 


“Oh!”  replied  the  young  prince,  while  he  continued 
to  weep,  “Oh!  my  dear  uncle,  those  wicked  allies  are 
eager  to  kill  you.  Let  me  go,  uncle  ;  let  me  go  with 
you.”  To  this  the  Emperor  made  no  reply,  but  having 
taken  the  young  prince  upon  his  knee,  he  pressed  him 
in  his  arms  and  embraced  him  with  warmth  and  affec¬ 
tion.  Then,  after  addressing  some  kind  and  playful 
words  to  the  prince,  in  order  to  console  him,  he  was 
about  to  restore  him  to  his  mother,  when,  perceiving 
the  effect  of  his  emotion  upon  one  of  his  officers,  he 
said,  “  Come,  embrace  him  ;  he  will  have  a  good  heart, 
and  amiable  dispositions.  He  is,  perhaps,  the  hope  of 
my  race!”  This  was  presentiment  for  presentiment. 
Prince  Louis  Napoleon  had  not  attained  his  eighth 
year,  when  he  was  forced  away  from  the  soil  of  France 
in  1815.  Like  the  King  of  Rome  he  refused  to  go 
into  banishment.  The  queen,  his  mother,  had  great 
trouble  to  make  him  submit  to  his  fate  ;  .and  when  the 
Emperor  came  to  Malmaison,  to  bid  his  last  adieu  to 
his  family,  he  could  only  be  torn  by-violence  from  his 
embrace  ;  he  refused  to  be  separated  from  his  uncle, 
and  cried  bitterly,  saying  that  he  wanted  to  fire  the 
cannon  upon  his  tyrants. 


CHAPTER  II. 


RESTORATION  OF  THE  BOURBONS. 

The  palace  of  Fontainbleau  is  one  of  the  most  an¬ 
cient  and  magnificent  in  France.  Among  the  many  ex¬ 
traordinary  transactions  that  have  taken  place  within 
its  walls,  —  which  had  been  the  scene  of  the  joys  and 
revelry,  the  intrigues  and  debauchery  of  the  French 
monarchs,  for  centuries,  —  none  were  more  remarkable 
than  the  abdication  of  Napoleon,  whose  empire  had 
sprung  from  the  Revolution  in  which  the  crimes  com¬ 
mitted  at  Fontainbleau  had  met  with  such  a  terrible 
expiation. 

No  one  need  look  beyond  the  history  of  Fontain¬ 
bleau  for  the  origin  of  the  most  sanguinary  and  bloody 
of  Revolutions.  The  infidelity  and  immorality  that 
played  at  the  apex  of  society  found  their  way  rapidly 
to  its  broad  and  extended  base.  The  bloodiest  heroes 
of  the  Revolution  were  the  sons  and  grandsons  of  the 
men  who  had  been  taught  by  their  rulers  that  there  is 
no  God  in  the  universe,  and  no  happiness  on  earth 
that  is  not  found  in  the  overthrow  of  the  moral  sense 
and  in  the  anarchy  of  the  passions.  There  had  been  a 
clear  renunciation,  on  the  part  of  the  kings,  of  all  the 
duties  they  owed  to  the  people,  before  the  masses  re¬ 
belled  against  the  authority  of  the  crown. 

Fontainbleau,  from  an  early  period,  was  in  possession 


PALACE  OF  FONTAINBLEAU. 


69 


of  the  French  kings,  but  was  not  much  used  as  a 
royal  residence  until  the  accession  of  Francis  I.  in 
1515.  He  employed  many  artists  to  fit  it  up  on  the 
reception  of  Charles  Y.  “If  Charles  Y.  dares  to 
traverse  France,”  said  Tribault,  the  King’s  jester,  “I 
will  give  him  my  fool’s  cap.”  “  And  if  I  allow  him  to 
pass  ?  ”  asked  the  monarch.  “  Then,”  replied  the  fool, 
with  a  wisdom  which  subsequent  events  justified,  “  I 
will  take  back  my  cap  and  make  you  a  present  of  it !  ” 
Francis  laughed  and  Charles  arrived. 

In  1546,  Francis  I.  fell  sick,  and  saw  all  the  courtiers 
of  Fontainbleau  abandon  him  to  seek  the  favor  of  his 
successor.  Anger  revived  his  strength;  he  left  his  bed 
of  suffering,  painted  his  cheeks,  put  on  his  silk  and 
velvet  clothes,  and  declaring  himself  cured,  went  to 
the  cathedral  to  return  thanks  for  his  recovery.  All 
the  courtiers  returned  in  alarm  and  fell  upon  their 
knees.  “  Ah  !  ah  !  ”  said  he,  with  an  ironical  smile, 
“  I  have  once  more  been  able  to  inspire  them  with 
fear  !  ”  Then,  exhausted  by  this  effort,  he  fell  back  and 
soon  expired.  Tradition  relates  that  he  gave  one  day 
a  brilliant  proof  of  his  courage  and  strength.  A  ser¬ 
pent  eighteen  feet  long  —  if  Guillaume  Morin  can  be 
believed  —  had  become  the  terror  of  the  hunters  and 
of  the  peasants.  He  could  not  be  attacked,  because 
he  hid  himself  between  the  rocks,  and  it  was,  therefore, 
necessary  to  vanquish  him  by  single  combat.  Ho  one 
would  undertake  this.  “Well,  I  will  attempt  it!” 
said  the  king.  “  For  which  purpose,  (adds  the  chroni¬ 
cler,)  he  caused  to  be  made  an  entire  suit  of  armor, 
covered  in  several  places  with  sharp  blades,  so  that 
the  serpent  attempting  to  twine  around  him  and  •nfold 


70 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


him,  was  cut  in  pieces,  and  the  combatant  pierced 
his  throat ;  and,  having  killed  him,  he  returned  victo¬ 
rious,  with  the  astonishment  of  the  whole  court,  that 
a  man  should  have  the  resolution  to  contend  with  a 
monster  so  venomous  and  formidable.”  If  this  story 
seems  fabulous,  we  cannot  help  it ;  the  author  of  the 
History  of  Gatenais  believes  the  circumstances  as  if  he 
had  seen  it. 

A  revolution  of  the  boudoir  followed  at  Fontain- 
bleau  the  death  of  Francis  I.  The  prince’s  favorite, 
before  the  Duchess  d’Etampes,  had  been  the  beautiful 
Diana  de  Poitiers,  a  duchess  of  the  same  stamp,  under 
the  name  of  Valentinois.  From  the  father  she  had 
passed  to  the  son,  and  governed  the  court  of  the 
dauphin,  while  her  rival  governed  the  court  of  the 
king.  Leaning  over  the  death-bed  of  Francis  I.,  she 
had  watched  his  last  sigh,  and  said  laughingly  to  the 
Duke  of  Guise  —  “He  is  going  bravely,  he  is  going!” 
As  soon  as  he  had  actually  expired  —  as  soon  as  the 
scepter  was  within  the  hands  of  Henry  II.,  a  woman 
arrived  in  haste  at  Fontainbleau.  She  entered,  with 
lofty  and  radiant  brow,  and  summoned  the  officers  and 
porters,  who  were  still  in  tears.  (Fidelity  has  always 
been  the  virtue  of  the  little.)  She  showed  them  an 
order  of  the  new  king,  enjoining  them  to  open  the 
doors  for  her.  She  went  directly  to  the  room  where 
the  finest  diamonds  of  the  crown  were  kept.  In  this 
room  she  found  another  woman,  who  had  worn  them 
the  day  before,  and  who,  like  the  servants,  was  bathing 
her  mourning  robes  with  her  tears.  With  a  bitter  and 
disdainful  look  she  froze  the  grief  which  merited  her 
respect.  She  seized  the  diamonds  as  her  prey}  adorned 


THE  RIVAL  MISTRESSES. 


71 


with  them  her  hair,  her  breast,  her  arms,  her  girdle  ; 
and  putting  the  rest  in  a  golden  casket,  traversed  the 
palace,  admiring  herself  in  every  mirror,  and  com¬ 
manding  like  a  queen  who  is  taking  possession  of  her 
dominions.  A  few  moments  after,  two  women  met  at 
the  Porte  Doree —  she  who  had  just  been  weeping,  and 
she  who  had  usurped  her  place.  The  one  was  more 
desolate  and  more  humble  still ;  the  other  had  never 
been  so  beautiful  and  so  triumphant.  The  one  uttered 
a  long  sigh,  and  almost  swooned  on  the  threshold  ;  the 
other  bid  her  adieu  with  a  burst  of  laughter,  and  had 
nearly  crushed  her  under  the  feet  of  her  horse.  The 
first  was  Madame  d’  Etampes,  the  sovereign  of  the 
day  before,  who  was  going  on  foot  to  finish  her  days  in 
some  humble  retreat.  The  second  was  Diana  of  Poi¬ 
tiers,  the  present  sovereign,  who  was  returning  in  her 
carriage  to  Henry  II.  Diana  was  then  forty-four, 
and  had  never  been  more  beautiful,  says  Brantome, 
who  could  not  yet,  seventeen  years  after,  recall  her 
without  emotion.  This  phoenix  of  grace,  this  monster 
of  pride,  reigned  at  Pontainbleau  without  a  rival. 
Henry  H.  limited  himself  to  being  the  most  valiant 
knight,  the  most  courageous  champion,  the  most  active 
leaper  in  France ;  in  other  respects  well  enough,  a 
slave  of  his  favorite  through  amiability  of  disposition, 
as  well  as  through  indolence  of  mind.  Meanwhile,  the 
true  queen,  who  was  one  day  to  become  Catherine  de 
Medicis,  saw  with  a  gloomy  and  jealous  eye  this  power 
which  supplanted  hers,  and  acquired  amid  the  shame¬ 
ful  corruptions,  the  diabolical  genius  of  which  she 
afterward  gave  such  formidable  proofs.  She  shook  off 
the  yoke,  and  threw  aside  the  mask,  on  the  very  day 


72 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


of  Henry  II. ’s  death.  Struck  in  the  tourney  of  the  Rue 
St.  Antoine  by  a  fragment  from  the  lance  of  Mont¬ 
gomery,  the  king  was  still  breathing  when  an  officer 
went  in  search  of  the  Duchess  of  Yalentinois.  “  In  the 
name  of  Queen  Catherine,”  said  he  to  her,  “  deliver  up 
the  diamonds  of  the  crown  and  quit  the  palace  imme¬ 
diately.”  “While Henry  H.  breathes,”  fiercely  replied 
Diana,  “I  acknowledge  no  master  below!”  And  she 
remained,  in  fact,  until  evening.  But  the  next  day  the 
king  was  no  more,  and  she  left  Fontainbleau,  for  her 
chateau  of  Anet. 

Under  Charles  IX.  and  Henry  1Y.,  Fontainbleau 
was  the  theater  of  gayety  and  voluptuousness.  The 
majestic  but  malignant  Catherine  de  Medicis  and  the 
belle  Gabrielle  d’  Estrees  were  its  most  celebrated  mis¬ 
tresses.  It  was  at  Fontainbleau  that  the  great  heart 
of  Henry  devised  the  sublime  plan  of  dividing  Europe 
into  fifteen  different  states,  so  well  balanced  and  gov¬ 
erned  that  civil  or  national  wars  should  be  impossible. 
May  our  century  see  the  essential  realization  of  that 
dream,  which  elevates  Henry  IY.  to  the  first  rank  of 
philanthropists  !  He  had  already  converted  to  his  ideas 
Rome  and  Yenice,  Savoy,  England,  Denmark,  Sweden, 
the  Protestants  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia,  Austria,  and 
the  United  Provinces.  Spain  and  the  Emperor  Ro- 
dolphe  alone  repelled  this  fraternal  alliance,  and  eon- 
strained  the  king  of  France  to  prepare  for  a  war, 
which  was  to  bring  about  universal  peace.  The  poniard 
of  Ravillac  put  an  end  at  once  to  the  great  man  and 
his  great  project. 

The  reign  of  Louis  XIY.  was  truly  characterized  by 
the  remark  of  Grouville  :  “The  misfortunes  of  the 


LOUIS  XIV. 


73 


succeeding  reigns  were  liis  work,  and  lie  lias  hardly 
influenced  posterity  except  for  its  ruin.”  Louis  was 
equally  dissolute  and  bigoted.  No  words  that  we  can 
venture  to  employ,  would  give  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
profligacy  prevalent  under  his  reign  —  of  the  debauch¬ 
eries  of  the  clergy,  the  vileness  of  the  courtiers,  the 
immorality  of  all  classes.  “  The  clergy,  (says  Dulaure,) 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  men  of  genius,  who  threw 
a  bright  luster  upon  their  century,  and  a  few  others, 
commendable  for  their  talents  and  regular  lives,  were 
plunged  in  ignorance  and  dissoluteness.  When  the 
conversion  of  the  Protestants  was  undertaken,  hardly  a 
priest  was  to  be  found  in  the  rural  districts  capable  of 
instructing  them  by  his  discourse,  and  of  edifying 
them  by  his  conduct.  The  king  set  an  example  of  dis¬ 
order  by  his  gallantries.”  A  king  who  scrupled  not  to 
travel  with  his  wife  and  his  two  mistresses,  (de  Mont- 
espan  and  la  Yalliere,)  all  in  the  same  carriage — while 
the  people  flocked  to  see  the  three  queens,  as  they 
called  them  —  could  with  ill  grace  have  shown  himself 
too  severe  a  censor  of  his  subjects.  Later,  however^ 
in  the  height  of  his  fanaticism,  when  he  was  com¬ 
pletely  in  the  hands  of  the  pious  Madame  de  Mainte- 
non  and  his  spiritual  advisers,  and  religion  was  the 
order  of  the  day,  the  clergy  and  courtiers  continued 
their  evil  courses,  merely  adding  hypocrisy  to  their 
other  vices.  While  the  king  was  occupied  with  his 
amours,  (says  Duclos,)  the  court  was  gallant ;  the  con¬ 
fessor  stepped  in  and  took  possession,  and  it  became 
dull  and  hypocritical.  The  courtiers  ran  to  the  chapel 
as  they  before  had  hurried  to  ball  and  pageant ;  but  the 
king  was  still  the  god  to  whom  the  worship  was 


74 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


addressed.  He  bad  opportunities  of  perceiving  this. 
Once  when  lie  was  expected  at  evening  prayer,  the 
aisles  were  full  of  courtly  devotees.  Brissac,  major  of 
the  body-guard,  entered  the  chapel,  and  said  alond  to  his 
men  that  the  king  was  not  coming,  and  withdrew  them. 
In  an  instant  the  chapel  emptied  itself.  A  quarter  of 
an  hour  afterward,  Brissac  replaced  the  guards.  The 
king  arrived,  and  was  astonished  at  the  extraordinary 
solitude.  Brissac  told  him  the  reason  ;  Louis  laughed, 
and  perhaps  he  pardoned  the  indifference  to  religion  in 
favor  of  the  respect  and  fear  shown  to  his  person.  The 
corruption  of  the  court  was  extreme.  “  They  united, 
(says  Dulaure,)  pride  with  baseness,  licentiousness  with 
devotion,  the  forms  of  politeness  with  acts  of  cruelty. 
When  too  old  for  amorous  intrigues,  they  became  pas¬ 
sionate  gamblers,  quarrelsome,  litigious,  false  devotees, 
the  tyrants  of  their  homes,  the  curse  of  their  families. 
The  annals  of  tribunals,  and  historical  records,  afford 
abundant  and  indisputable  proofs  of  the  truth  of  this 
picture.”  When  devotion  (or  hypocrisy,)  had  become 
the  fashion  at  court,  “  the  lady  gamblers,  (says  a  con¬ 
temporary  writer,)  upon  separating,  pronounced  a 
formula,  by  which  they  reciprocally  made  each  other  a 
present  of  such  gains  as  they  might  have  acquired  by 
cheating !  This  mode  of  defrauding  God,  practiced  by 
so  many  pious  harpies,  even  in  the  very  apartments  of 
Madame  de  Maintenon,  appeared  to  me  an  eminently 
characteristic  trait.”  The  mixture  of  bigotry  and  liber 
tinism,  prevalent  at  the  end  of  the  17th  century,  was 
most  curious.  Compliance  with  the  forms  of  religion, 
with  fasts  and  penitence,  was  held  far  more  important 
than  a  virtuous  life.  Louis  XIV.’s  son,  known  as  the 


BURIAL  OF  LOUIS  XIV. 


75 


grand-dauphin,  considered  it  one  of  the  blackest  of 
crimes  to  eat  meat  on  a  fast-day.  During  Lent  he  sent 
to  Paris  for  one  of  his  mistresses,  an  actress  named 
Raisin  ;  and  when  6he  came  he  gave  her  nothing  to 
eat  but  salad  and  bread  fried  in  oil,  imagining  that  a 
sin  avoided  expiated  a  sin  committed !  The  king’s 
brother,  eating  a  biscuit,  said  to  the  Abbe  Feuillet,  a 
canon  of  St.  Cloud,  “This  is  not  breaking  the  fast.” 
“  Eat  a  calf,  (replied  the  priest,  with  a  frankness  and 
honesty  rare  at  that  time,)  and  be  a  Christian !  ”  It  was 
the  age  of  hypocrisy  and  outward  observance.  The 
husk  of  religion  was  offered  to  God  ;  the  grain  was 
nowhere.  People  went  daily  to  church  ;  there  to  talk 
and  laugh,  and  see  their  friends. 

No  monarch  had  ever  been  so  flattered  in  life  as 
Louis  XI Y. ;  few  have  been  so  insulted  in  death.  No 
one  was  ever  more  magnificent  in  his  expenditures  ; 
few  have  been  buried  with  so  little  pomp.  It  was  an 
occasion  of  great  rejoicing.  II is  wife  abandoned  him 
several  days  before  his  death.  While  his  coffin  was 
being  deposited  in  its  final  resting-place,  the  writers  of 
lampoons  and  satires,  were  hard  at  work  at  the  poor 
king’s  expense. 

This  dissolute  monarch,  who  blazoned  forth  his 
adulteries,  and  set  aside  the  laws  of  marriage  when  he 
proclaimed  the  children  of  his  mistress  to  be  as  legiti¬ 
mate  as  his  lawful  issue,  was  a  strict  devotee,  and 
made  eager  efforts  to  persuade  the  Huguenots  to  return 
to  the  Catholic  faith  —  efforts  which,  when  unsuccess¬ 
ful,  were  replaced  by  the  most  oppressive  and  cruel 
measifres.  The  persecutions  were  preceded  and  ac¬ 
companied  by  ardent  attempts  at  oroselytism.  On  all 


76 


LOUIS  NAHOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


sides  missionaries  were  at  work.  When  they  failed, 
dragoons  replaced  them.  The.  sword  succeeded  the 
crucifix.  Neither  were  successful;  but  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  families,  belonging  to  the  most  intelli¬ 
gent  portion  of  the  French  population,  fled  from  their 
native  land,  where  religious  liberty  was  refused  them, 
to  enrich  other  countries-  by  their  ingenuity  and  indus¬ 
try.  By  guarding  the  frontiers,  Louvois  endeavored, 
but  in  vain,  to  check  this  wholesale  emigration,  the 
evil  of  which  was  insufficient  to  wrest  concession  from 
the  king.  “The  first  of  religions  for  Louis  XIV.,” 
says  Duclos,  “  was  the  belief  in  the  royal  authority. 
Ignorant,  besides,  in  matters  of  doctrine,  superstitious 
in  his  devotion,  he  pursued  a  real  or  imaginary  heresy 
as  an  act  of  disobedience,  and  thought  to  expiate  his 
fault  by  persecution.” 

The  first  formal  visit  of  Louis  XV.  at  Fontainbleau, 
was  the  denouement  of  a  touching  story.  Stanislaus, 
formerly  king  of  Poland,  but  dethroned  by  Peter  the 
Great,  was  pensioned  by  the  generosity  of  France. 
The  hand  of  his  daughter,  Marie  Leczinska,  had  been 
demanded  in  marriage  by  the  Count  d’Estrees.  The 
king  gave  his  consent  on  condition  that  d’ Estrees 
would  obtain  the  rank  of  duke.  When  the  count  pre¬ 
sented  himself  to  the  regent,  (Louis  XV.  being  yet  a 
minor,)  and  stated  his  request  and  the  object  of  it,  that 
personage  replied  —  “  You  are  mad,  to  think  of  marry¬ 
ing  the  daughter  of  an  ex-king,  who  has  not  the  means 
of  subsistence.  She  is  the  worst  match  in  Europe. 
Think  no  more  of  it.  I  will  cure  }rou  of  your  fine 
passion,  by  marrying  you  to  the  daughter  of  a  farmer- 
general,  with  a  dowry  of  some  millions.  You  shall, 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  DUCHESS. 


77 


after  that,  be  a  duke  and  peer,  if  you  like.  We  will 
arrange  this  business.  Come  to-morrow  and  sup  at 
the  Palais  Boyal !  ”  Louis  XY.  remained  pensive,  and 
d'  Estrees,  abashed,  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  away 
by  the  regent.  lie  renounced  the  hand  of  the  prin¬ 
cess,  under  pretexts  which  scarcely  concealed  forget¬ 
fulness  and  disdain.  This  was  the  last  drop  of  the 
cup  which  the  proscribed  king  had  drank  to  the  dregs. 
His  daughter  was  repulsed,  as  an  unworthy  match, 
by  an  officer  of  the  guards  —  turned  from  his  honor¬ 
able  purpose  by  the  raillery  of  the  regent.  But  his  sor¬ 
row  was  soon  turned  to  joy.  The  same  courier  who 
carried  to  him  the  letter  of  d’ Estrees  was  also  the 
bearer  of  another  from  Louis  XY.,  demanding  the 
hand  of  Marie  in  marriage.  The  bride,  scorned  by  an 
officer,  became  the  Queen  of  France  and  of  Navarre ! 
The  portrait  drawn  by  d’  Estrees  of  the  graces  of  Marie, 
had  remained  engraved  on  the  heart  of  the  young 
monarch,  and  Providence  had  done  the  rest.  The 
marriage  of  Louis  XY.  and  Marie  Leczinska,  was  cele¬ 
brated  formally  at  Fontainbleau,  in  the  month  of 
September,  1725.  The  new  queen  avenged  herself  on 
the  officer  of  the  guards  only  by  procuring  for  him  the 
titles  of  duke  and  peer,  and  saying  to  a  friend,  when 
the  Duchess  d’  Estrees  came  to  pay  her  court  —  “I 
might  have  been  in  the  place  of  this  lady,  and  have 
done  reverence  to  the  queen  of  France.” 

The  immoderate  love  of  pleasure  during  the  reign 
of  Louis  XY.,  and  which,  from  the  higher  descended  to 
the  lower  classes,  and  was  defended  or  excused  by  the 
infidel  philosophy  of  the  day,  occasioned  a  fearful 
separation  of  reason  from  morality,  and  of  the  passions 


'  78  LOUIS  NArOLKON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 

from  rectitude.  The  moral  infection  spread  farther 
and  farther,  and  ate  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  roots 
of  public  spirit  and  every  civil  virtue.  Even  Louis 
XIV.,  despite  the  badness  of  his  example,  left  the  fol¬ 
lowing  noble  advice  to  his  grandson  —  “  Do  not  bur¬ 
den  the  people  with  needless  expenditures.  Love 
peace,  and  undertake  no  war,  except  when  the  good 
of  the  state  and  the  welfare  of  your  people  render  it 
necessary.”  A  much  deeper  impression  should  have 
been  made  on  the  mind  of  the  royal  child,  by  the  con¬ 
duct  of  the  people  who  accompanied  the  hearse  of  his 
father  with  insults  and  the  grossest  expressions  of  joy. 
But  Villeroi,  his  teacher,  used  to  carry  him  from  win¬ 
dow  to  window  of  the  palace,  exclaiming  —  “See 
there,  my  king  !  your  people;  all  these  people  belong 
to  you;  all  that  you  see  is  your  property;  you  are  lord 
and  master  of  it !  ”  In  his  manhood,  as  the  result  of 
such  teachings,  the  affairs  of  France  were  not  regarded 
as  those  of  Louis  XV.  He  was  accustomed  to  say  — • 
“  Let  us  amuse  ourselves,  even  if  the  deluge  comes 
afterward !  ”  Plow  different  were  the  views  of  his 
father,  the  noble  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  intended,  in 
case  he  ascended  the  throne,  to  restore  to  the  people 
their  lost  rights.  It  was  he  who,  shortly  before  his 
death,  while  contemplating  Paris  from  a  high  tower, 
cried  out  —  “  What  delight  a  king  must  experience  in 
making  so  many  people  happy  !  ”  Always  confined  to 
his  study,  he  there  contracted  the  malady  which  short¬ 
ened  his  days.  He  would  take  n@  care  of  himself,  and 
obstinately  refused  the  aid  of  medicine.  One  day  Dr. 
Senac  entered,  on  the  part  of  the  king,  and  attempted 
to  give  him  some  advice.  “I  shall  be  delighted  to  see 


JOSEPniNE  AT  FONT  A  IN  ISLE  AU. 


79 


you,”  said  the  prince,  “  if  you  talk  to  me  of  science  and 
literature;  but  if  you  say  a  word  about  health,  I  shall 
prohibit  your  entering  my  apartment.”  Senac  then 
turned  toward  a  tapestry  which  represented  Alexan¬ 
der  the  Great,  and  began  to  enumerate  all  the  dangers 
of  a  disease  from  neglected  lungs.  “  Doctor,”  replied 
the  dauphin,  “  have  I  not  forbidden  you  to  speak  of 
these  things?”  “I  was  not  addressing  you,”  said 
Senac,  “  but  Alexander,  who  deigns  to  listen  to  me.” 
The  prince  smiled,  but  forgot  the  advice,  and  died  at 
the  fall  of  the  leaves. 

Fontainbleau,  which  had  witnessed  so  many  varying  . 
scenes,  became  the  theater  of  the  greatest  errors  and 
most  bitter  disasters  of  Napoleon’s  imperial  reign.  It 
was  there  that  Pius  VII.  found  supreme  honors,  when 
he  came  to  crown  the  great  conqueror ;  and  it  was 
there  that  the  generous  pontiff  was,  after  an  interval  of 
nine  years,  imprisoned  by  the  haughty  Emperor.  In 
this  interval,  Napoleon  had  brought  Europe  to  his  feet, 
distributed  crowns  to  his  family,  and  realized,  in 
France,  all  the  grandeur  of  the  age  of  Augustus,  of 
Leo  X.,  and  of  Louis  XIV.  It  was  there  that  Jose¬ 
phine,  while  her  happiness  lasted,  shared  it  with  the 
whole  world.  But  her  husband  soon  grew  cold  toward 
her,  and  she  foresaw  the  dissolution  of  their  union. 
The  first  word  which  announced  this  fatal  divorce  was 
pronounced  at  Fontainbleau,  in  the  Emperor’s  cabinet. 
How  many  tears  flowed  from  this  moment  until  the 
day  of  the  separation  !  Josephine  had  loved  Napoleon, 
and  been  beloved  passionately  by  him  in  his  youth, 
bhe  had  shared  his  humble  fortune ;  by  her  connec¬ 
tions  in  Paris,  and  especially  by  her  skillful  conduct 


80 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


during  liis  Egyptian  expedition,  she  had  most  materi¬ 
ally  assisted  him  in  the  attainment  of  the  sovereign 
dignity  ;  she  had  subsequently  adorned  his  court,  and 
gratified  his  pride  by  the  elegance  of  her  manners,  and 
won  to  herself  the  attachment  of  his  people,  by  her 
sincere  good  nature  and  active  benevolence.  Her 
power  over  her  husband  was  known  to  be  great,  and 
no  one  ever  doubted  but  that  it  had  uniformly  been 
exerted  on  the  side  of  mercy.  She  was  considered  as 
the  good  angel  who,  more  frequently  and  effectually 
than  any  influence  besides,  interfered  to  soothe  the 
fierce  passions,  and  temper  the  violent  acts  of  her  lord. 
Her  devotion  to  him  was  perfect :  she  partook  his  la¬ 
bors  as  far  as  he  would  permit  her  to  do  so,  submitted 
to  all  his  caprices,  and,  with  a  dark  presentiment  that 
his  ambition  would  one  day  cast  her  aside,  continued 
to  center  the  whole  of  her  existence  in  the  contempla¬ 
tion  of  his  glory.  At  last  Josephine  departed,  and  the 
good  genius  of  Napoleon  departed  with  her.  France 
was  thenceforth  suspicious  of  the  man  who  had  dis¬ 
trusted  himself;  and  Maria  Louisa,  the  new  Empress, 
brought  to  Eontainbleau,  under  her  Austrian  mantle, 
neither  the  heart  of  a  woman  nor  the  head  of  a  queen. 
Napoleon,  nevertheless,  did  all  that  he  could  to  avert 
the  evil  star,  and  to  please  the  wife  destined  to  give 
him  a  son.  Maria  Louisa  found  in  the  private  garden 
the  pines  which  are  still  seen  there.  The  Emperor  had 
caused  them  to  be  planted  to  remind  her  of  the  aspect 
of  German  forests.  These  delicate  attentions  did  not 
prevent  Maria  Louisa  from  forgetting  Austria  in 
France,  then  France  in  Austria,  and  at  a  later  period, 
bestowing  upon  an  Austrian  colonel  the  hand  which 
1  held  the  imperial  scepter! 


NAPOLEON  AND  THE  TOPE. 


81 


It  was  at  Fontainbleau  that  Napoleon  had  his  cele¬ 
brated  interview  with  the  pope  which  is  still  a  great 
historic  mystery.  Yet  one  of  the  pages  about  the 
palace  professes  to  have  overheard  it,  and  gives  the  fol¬ 
lowing  account  of  the  conversation  :  The  pope  sat 
with  downcast  eyes,  seemingly  resigned  to  hear  what 
Napoleon  might  say  without  replying.  The  Emperor, 
after  walking  about  the  room,  and  watchiug  the  pon¬ 
tiff,  now  in  profile,  now  in  the  mirrors  about  the  room, 
said  abruptly  —  “  Do  not,  holy  father,  assume  the  air 
of  a  martyr,  offering  his  sufferings  to  Heaven.  Such  is 
not  your  situation.  You  are  only  a  voluntary  pris¬ 
oner.  Say  a  single  word,  you  are  free  ;  the  road  to 
Rome  is  open,  no  one  shall  detain  you.”  Pius  VII. 
sighed,  raised  his  right  hand,  and  looked  at  the  golden 
cross  which  he  wore  suspended  from  his  neck.  “  If  the 
dignity  of  your  character  did  not  prevent  me,  I  should 
say  you  were  a  little  ungrateful.  You  do  not  seem 
sufficiently  to  have  remembered  the  good  offices  which 
France  has  rendered  you.  The  conclave  of  Venice, 
which  elected  you  pope,  has  to  me  a  little  the  appear¬ 
ance  of  having  been  inspired  by  my  campaign  in  Italy, 
and  by  a  word  which  I  said  about  you.  I  have  never 
had  time  to  study  theology  myself ;  but  I  attach  great 
faith  to  the  power  of  the  church.  She  has  a  prodigious 
vitality.  Holy  father,  you  shall  be  satisfied  with  me! 
We  can,  if  you  please,  do  great  things  in  the  future.” 
And  with  an  air  of  the  most  gentle  and  naive  confi¬ 
dence  :  “For  example,  I  do  not  see  why  you  should  be 
reluctant  to  reside  in  Paris  always.  I  will  even  allow 
you  the  Tuileries,  if  you  desire  it.  You  will  already 
find  there  your  chamber  of  Monte  Cavallo,  which  is 
4* 


82 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  niS  TIMES. 


prepared  for  you.  I  shall  not  live  there  much.  Do 
you  not  see  clearly,  Padre ,  that  this  is  the  true  capital 
of  the  world  ?  As  for  me,  I  will  do  all  you  wish  me 
to  ;  I  am  the  most  obedient  child  in  the  world.  Pro¬ 
vided  war  and  politics  are  left  to  me,  you  shall  manage 
the  church  as  you  please.  I  will  be  only  your  soldier. 
This  will  be  truly  fine  ;  we  will  have  councils  like  Con¬ 
stantine  and  Charlemagne  ;  I  will  open  them  and  close 
them  ;  I  will  afterward  place  in  your  hands  the  true 
keys  of  the  world,  and  as  our  Lord  has  said  :  ‘  I  am 
come  with  the  sword,’  I  will  only  ask  your  blessing 
upon  each  success  of  our  arms.”  The  pope  remained 
mute  and  motionless.  Napoleon  smiling,  bent  forward 
and  awaited  a  reply.  The  old  man  at  last  slowly 
raised  himself  and  sighed,  as  if  speaking  to  his 
invisible  angel: — Commediante!  ”  (Comedian  !) 

The  Emperor  bounded  like  a  wounded  leopard,  bit 
his  lip  till  it  bled,  jingled  his  spurs,  and  made  the  floor 
shake  and  the  curtains  tremble.  “Ia  comedian !  ” 
exclaimed  he  suddenly.  “  Oh !  I  will  give  you  come¬ 
dies  which  shall  make  you  all  weep  like  women  and 
children.  Comedian  !  You  are  mistaken  if  you  think 
this  insolent  coolness  will  affect  me !  My  theater  is  the 
world  ;  the  part  which  I  play  in  it  is  that  of  manager 
and  author ;  for  actors,  I  have  you  all,  pope,  kings, 
people !  *  and  the  thread  by  which  I  move  you,  is 
fear  !  Comedian !  Ah  !  it  will  take  a  man  of  another 
stamp  than  yourself  to  dare  to  applaud  or  to  hiss  me. 
Signor  Chiaramonti!  do  you  know  that  you  would  be 

*  Napoleon  was  accustomed  to  use  such  proud  language.  “  Come  to 
Erfurth,  (said  ho  on  one  occasion  to  Talma,  the  actor,)  and  you  shall 
jduij  before  a  whole  pit  full  of  kings  l  ” 


COMEDIAN  - TRAGEDIAN. 


83 


flly  a  poor  curate  if  I  willed,  you  and' your  tiara? 
France  would  laugh  in  your  lace,  if  I  should  not  pre¬ 
serve  my  serious  air  in  saluting  you.  Only  four  years 
since,  no  one  dared  speak  the  name  of  Christ  aloud. 
Who  then  would  have  spoken  of  the  pope,  if  you 
please  ?  Comedian !  It  is  I  who  hold  you  all  in  my 
lingers  ;  it  is  I  who  move  you  from  South  to  North, 
like  puppets  ;  it  is  I  who  pretend  to  rely  upon  you  in 
some  things,  because  you  represent  an  old  idea  which 
I  wish  to  resuscitate  ;  and  you  have  not  wit  enough  to 
peiceive  this  and  to  act  as  if  you  did  not  perceive  it. 
I  must  speak  plainly !  You  must  look  closely  at  things 
before  you  can  comprehend  them.  And  you  really 
think  we  need  you,  and  lift  up  your  head,  and  clothe 
yourself  in  your  woman’s  robes  ?  But  learn  that  they 
do  not  impose  upon  me,  and  that  if  you  go  on,  I  will 
treat  yours  as  Charles  VII.  did  that  of  the  Grand 
Vizier,  I  will  rend  it  to  pieces  with  a  blow  from  my 
spurs!”  Pius  VII.  was  as  calm  as  before;  the  same 
smile  of  resignation  dwelt  on  his  lips.  He  raised  his 
eyes  a  second  time  and  said  as  before,  with  a  sigh  :  — 
“ Tragedienne, !  ”  (Tragedian  ! ) 

This  was  too  much.  Napoleon,  who  was  standing 
at  the  extremity  of  the  chamber,  darted  like  an  arrow, 
rushed  upon  the  pontiff  as  if  he  would  have  killed 
him,  but  stopped  at  the  table,  took  from  it  a  vase  of 
Sevres,  and  crushed  it  to  fragments  beneath  his  heel, 
lie  threw  himself  violently  into  a  chair,  and  after  re¬ 
flecting  in  gloomy  silence,  said  —  “It  is  true,  this  is  a 
wretched  life !  It  is  true,  tragedian  or  comedian !  all 
is  acting,  all  is  costume  for  me,  has  been  and  will  be 
forever.  What  weariness !  What  littleness !  To 


84 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IITS  TIMES. 


practice  postures  !  always  to  practice  postures  1  The 
face  to  this  party,  the  profile  to  that,  according  to  their 
ideas.  To  appear  to  them  to  he  what  they  choose  to 
have  you,  and  to  divine  justly  their  imbecile  dreams. 
To  place  them  all  between  hope  and  fear  ;  to  dazzle 
them  by  dates  and  bulletins,  by  prestiges  of  distance 
and  prestiges  of  name  ;  to  be  the  master  of  all,  and 
not  know  what  to  do  with  them.  Faith,  this  is  all ! 
And  after  this  all,  to  suffer  from  ennui  as  I  do  ;  it  is 
too  much.  For,  in  fact,  (pursued  he,  crossing  his  legs 
and  throwing  himself  back  in  his  chair,)  I  am  enor¬ 
mously  wearied.  As  soon  as  I  sit  down  I  am  ready  to 
burst  with  ennui.  I  could  not  hunt  three  days  at  Fon- 
tainbleau  without  being  tired  to  death.  I  must  go 
where  I  must  go ;  if  I  know  where,  may  I  be  hanged. 
I  speak  to  you  frankly.  I  have  plans  for  the  lives  of 
forty  emperors ;  I  make  one  every  morning  and  one 
every  night ;  I  have  an  indefatigable  imagination,  but 
before  I  had  time  to  carry  two  of  them  into  execution, 
•  I  should  be  worn  out  body  and  soul ;  for  our  poor 
lamp  does  not  burn  long.  And,  candidly,  if  all  my 
plans  should  be  executed,  I  would  not  swear  that  the 
world  would  find  itself  much  happier,  but  it  would 
be  more  beautiful,  and  a  majestic  unity  would  reign 
over  it.  I  am  not  a  philosopher  myself,  and  I  know 
no  one  but  our  secretary  of  Florence  that  has  common 
sense.  I  understand  nothing  of  certain  theories.  Life 
is  too  short  for  rest.  As  soon  as  I  have  planned,  I 
execute.  Enough  explanations  of  my  acts  will  be  found 
after  me  to  exalt  me  if  I  succeed,  and  humble  me  if  I 
fall.  Paradoxes  are  here  already  ;  they  abound  in 
France.  I  keep  them  quiet  while  I  live,  but  after  mo 


SHAKING  HANDS. 


85 


they  will  appear.  No  matter  —  my  business  is  to  suc¬ 
ceed.  I  make  my  Iliad  in  action,  every  day.  What 
would  you  have  ?  —  one  must  live  ;  we  must  find  our 
place  and  dig  our  hole.  I  have  made  mine  like  a  bullet. 
So  much  the  worse  for  those  who  were  before  me! 
Every  one  eats  according  to  his  appetite.  For  myself. 
I  was  very  hungry !  When  I  have  worn  for  an  hour 
my  imperial  costume,  I  have  had  enough  of  it.  I  re¬ 
sume  my  uniform,  and  mount  my  horse.  Always  on 
horseback !  all  my  life  on  horseback !  There  are  in  the 
world  but  two  classes  of  men  :  those  who  possess,  and 
those  who  are  reaching  forward.  The  first  may  lie 
down,  the  second  are  moving.  As  I  understood  that 
early,  I  have  gone  far  ;  that  is  all.  There  are  work¬ 
men  on  buildings,  in  colors,  in  forms,  and  in  phrases  ; 
I  am  an  architect  of  battles.  This  is  my  profession.  I 
have  already  manufactured  fifty,  which  are  called  vic¬ 
tories.  I  must  be  paid  for  my  work  ;  and  the  pay  of 
the  empire  is  not  too  dear.  Besides,  I  shall  continue 
to  labor.  You  will  see  many  others.  You  will  see  all 
dynasties  date  from  mine,  parvenu  as  I  am  —  like 
yourself,  holy  father,  elected,  and  taken  from  the 
crowd.  On  this  point,  we  can  shake  hands.”  And  he 
hastily  presented  his  hand  to  Pius  YII.,  who,  touched 
by  this  frank  confession,  and  seeing  him  at  last  throw 
oft'  the  double  mask  which  he  had  wrested  from  him 
by  two  words,  extended  in  turn  his  trembling  hand, 
and,  letting  fall  a  tear  on  his  thin  cheek,  yielded  his 
temporal  power. 

On  the  23d  of  January,  1814,  the  pope  left  Fontain- 
bleau,  blessing  the  crowd  assembled  in  the  court  of  Le 
Cheval  Blanc ;  and  on  the  13th  of  March  following, 


86 


LOUIS  NAPOLKON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


Napoleon  learned  in  the  same  court  the  entrance  into 
Paris  of  the  kings  whom  he  had  driven  from  their 
capitals.  This  downfall  of  the  terrible  Emperor  was 
greater  than  his  elevations.  His  defense  of  the  French 
territory  against  foreign  invasion  surpassed  the  glory 
of  his  finest  conquests  ;  and  he  never  appeared  so  sub¬ 
lime  as  on  the  night  in  which  he  re-entered  Fontain- 
bleau  exhausted,  repeating,  “All  is  lost  except  honor.” 

The  enemies  of  Bonaparte  had  triumphed.  He 
could  no  longer  carry  on  the  war  against  them.  After 
great  reluctance  and  a  long  debate  among  his  mar¬ 
shals,  he  seated  himself  at  a  table  and  traced  with  a 
firm  hand  the  following  lines  : 

“The  allied  powers  having  proclaimed  that  the  Em¬ 
peror  Napoleon  is  the  sole  obstacle  to  the  re-establish¬ 
ment  of  peace  in  Europe,  he,  faithful  to  his  oath,  de¬ 
clares  that  he  is  ready  to  descend  from  the  throne,  to 
quit  France,  and  even  to  relinquish  life,  for  the  good 
of  his  country,  which  is  inseparable  from  the  rights  of 
his  son,  from  those  of  the  regency  in  the  person  of  the 
empress,  and  from  the  maintenance  of  the  laws  of  the 
empire.  Done  at  our  palace  of  Fontainbleau,  April 
the  4th,  1814.  Napoleon.” 

These  lines,  dignified  in  expression  and  replete  with 
deep  feeling,  were  worthy  of  the  solemn  occasion.  The 
treaty  of  Fontainbleau,  in  which,  having  abandoned 
all  hope,  lie  renounced  for  himself  and  his  heirs  the 
throne  of  France  and  of  Italy,  was  concluded  on  the 
11th  of  April.  But  little  remained  except  to  bid 
adieu  to  his  companions  in  arms.  On  the  20th  of 
April  the  relics  of  his  imperial  guard  were  drawn  up 
in  the  court-yard  of  the  castle.  He  advanced  toward 
them  on  horseback;  and  tears  dropped  from  his  eyes 


NAPOLEON  AND  THE  IMPERIAL  GUARD. 


87 


as  lie  dismounted  in  their  midst.  “  All  Europe,”  said 
Napoleon,  “has  armed  against  rife.  France  herself 
has  deserted  me,,  and  chosen  another  dynasty.  I 
might,  with  my  soldiers,  have  maintained  a  civil  war 
for  years  —  but  it  would  have  rendered  France  un¬ 
happy.  Be  faithful  to  the  new  sovereign  whom  your 
country  has  chosen.  Do  not  lament  my  fate  :  I  shall 
always  be  happy  while  I  know  that  you  are  so.  I 
could  have  died — nothing  was  easier  —  but  I  will 
always  follow  the  path  of  honor.  I  will  record  with 
my  pen  the  deeds  we  have  done  together.  I  cannot 
embrace  you  all,”  he  continued,  taking  the  command¬ 
ing  officer  in  his  arms,  “but  I  embrace  your  general. 
Bring  hither  the  eagle.  Beloved  eagle  1  may  the 
kisses  I  bestow  on  you  long  resound  in  the  hearts  of 
the  brave  !  Farewell,  my  children  —  farewell  my 
brave  companions  —  surround  me  once  more  —  fare¬ 
well  !  ”  Amid  the  silent  but  profound  grief  of  these 
brave  men,  submitting  like  himself  to  the  irresistible 
force  of  events,  Napoleon  placed  himself  in  his 
carriage,  and  drove  rapidly  from  Fontainbleau. 

It  is  most  painful  to  contemplate  these  scenes. 
What  agonies  must  have  passed  through  the  heart  of 
6uch  a  man,  so  humbled  !  What  inevitable  contrasts 
of  the  throne  with  the  dungeon !  What  sense  of 
shame  in  the  humiliation  which  thus  placed  him  at 
the  disposal  of  his  own  few  followers  !  What  sleepless 
anxiety  in  those  midnight  consultations,  in  those  ex¬ 
posures  to  public  shame,  in  this  sense  of  utter  ruin,  in 
this  terrible  despair !  If  some  great  painter  shall 
hereafter  arise  to  vindicate  the  pencil  by  showing  its 
power  of  delineating  the  deepest  passions  of  our  nature, 


88 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


or  some  still  greater  poet  shall  come  to  revive  the 
day  of  Shakspeare,  and  exhibit  the  tortures  of  a 
greater  Macbeth,  fallen  from  the  highest  elevation  of 
human  things  into  a  depth  of  self-reproach  and  self- 
abasement  to  which  all  the  powers  of  human  language 
might  be  weak  —  what  a  subject  for  them  were  here ! 

The  apartments  at  Fontainbleau  are  full  of  the  giant 
shadow  of  the  Emperor  :  it  was  there  that  he  labored 
in  the  days  of -his  glory  —  it  was  there  that  he  fell  in 
his  greatness.  The  round  table  at  which  he  wrote  his 
abdication  is  still  there.  It  bears,  at  present,  on  a 
plate  of  copper,  this  historical  inscription,  engraven 
by  order  of  Louis  XVIII.:  —  “  On  the  5 th  of  April, 
1814,  Napoleon  Bonaparte  signed  his  abdication  on 
this  table ,  in  the  King's  Cabinet!  the  second  from 
the  sleeping-chamber  at  Fontainbleau We  may 
easily  recognize  in  this  the  prince  who  always  spoke 
of  the  Emperor  Napoleon  as  Monsieur  de  Bonaparte  A 

The  capacities  of  Napoleon  as  a  civil  ruler  were 
scarcely  inferior  to  his  talents  as  a  general.  We  find 
ample  evidence  of  the  success  with  which  he  applied 
the  native  vigor  of  his  understanding  to  the  science  of 
government,  in  his  dispatches  to  the  ministers  of  state, 
in  his  recorded  conversations  with  his  friends,  in  his 
speeches  and  observations  to  his  council,  and  in  the 
admirable  measures  he  adopted  or  suggested  for  the 

*  Louis  XYIII.’s  dislike  to  Napoleon  is  well  known.  The  late  J.  Fen- 
imore  Cooper,  writingl  from  Paris,  in  1H2(>,  mentions  the  following  cir¬ 
cumstance  in  regard  to  it :  “  My  girls  have  shown  me  an  abridgment  of 
the  history  of  France,  that  has  been  officially  prepared  for  the  ordinary 
schools,  in  which  there  is  no  sort  of  allusion  to  him  (Bonaparte.)  The 
wags  here,  say  that  a  work  has  been  especially  prepared  for  the  heir 
presumptive,  however,  in  which  the  Emperor  is  a  little  better  treated  ; 
being  spoken  of  as  “a  certain  Marquis  de  Bonaparte  who  commanded 
the  armies  of  the  king  I” 


napoleon’s  civil  administration.  89 

reorganization  of  France  from  1800  to  180-f.  It  is  im¬ 
possible  to  read  the  account  of  these  without  doing 
involuntary  homage  to  the  strong,  clear  sense,  the 
instinctive  wisdom,  which,  amid  all  the  fatal  errors 
which  ambition  led  him  to  commit,  marked  every 
observation  which  fell  from  this  wonderful  man.  Nor 
does  history  alone  contain  the  proofs  of  Napoleon’s  ex¬ 
traordinary  administrative  capacity.  All  France  and 
Italy  abound  with  the  undertakings  of  public  utility 
which  he  set  on  foot  and  carried  through.  It  appears 
that  during  the  twelve  years  of  his  government  he  ex¬ 
pended  no  less  than  1200,000,000  on  the  public  works 
in  the  various  countries  under  his  rule  ;  ($ 140, 000, 000 
in  France  alone  ;)  and  of  these,  $110,000,000  were  for 
roads,  bridges,  harbors,  and  canals,  which  will  remain 
eternal  monuments  of  his  genius  and  power,  and  per¬ 
petual  blessings  and  sources  of  civilization  to  all 
Europe,  long  after  the  hand  of  time  and  industry  shall 
have  obliterated  the  last  lingering  traces  of  his  desolat¬ 
ing  wars,  and  when  the  memory  of  his  crimes  and  his 
glory  shall  have  faded  into  the  dim  remoteness  of  the 
past.  The  Antwerp  harbor,  the  Alpine  roads,  and  the 
Code  Napoleon,  will  long  survive  the  effects  of  the 
mischiefs  which  he  caused  and  the  sufferings  which  he 
inflicted. 

The  reverse  of  this  interesting  picture  is  presented 
when  we  turn  from  his  intellectual  endowments  to  con¬ 
template  his  moral  qualities.  Yet  even  here  there  was 
much  that  was  attractive.  He  was  a  man  of  fasci¬ 
nating  manners,  of  occasional  impulses  of  generous 
emotion,  and  of  warm  and  kind,  though  limited  affec¬ 
tions.  He  appears  to  have  been  sincerely  attached  to 


90 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON,  and  nrs.  times. 


bis  wife  and  child,  and  to  a  few  of  his  early  coinpan 
ions  in  arms.  But  the  prominent  feature  of  his  char 
acter  was  a  hard, "cold,  unrelenting  selfishness.  What¬ 
ever  interfered,  or  seemed  likely  to  interfere,  with  his 
own  fame,  his  own  aggrandizement,  his  own  ambition, 
was  trampled  under  foot  with  the  most  ruthless 
resolution.  His  frequent  and  contemptible  disregard  of 
truth  ;  his  entire  disregard  of  the  lives  of  his  soldiers, 
or  the  exhaustion  of  his  country,  or  his  own  deliberate 
promises  or  solemn  treaties,  or,  in  short,  of  any  con¬ 
sideration  whatever,  when  in  pursuit  of  the  object  he 
had  determined  to  obtain;  enable  us  to  look  without 
regret  upon  the  retributive  fate  which  finally  overtook 
him.  The  insatiable  and  unresting  ambition  of  Na- 
poleon  admits  of  no  excuse.  His  encroachments  were 
even  more  daring  and  intolerable  in  time  of  peace 
than  during  war.  He  pursued  them  from  passion,  and 
justified  them  on  principle.  It  would  appear  that 
Providence  had  sent  him  upon  earth,  to  show  to  the 
worshipers  of  grandeur  and  of  genius,  how  com¬ 
pletely  all  that  is  most  magnificent  in  intellectual  en¬ 
dowments  may  be  divorced  from  moral  excellence  and 
the  generous  affections  ;  and  when  so  divorced,  how 
incalculably  sad  and  terrible  are  its  consequences  to 
mankind.  It  seems  almost  certain  that  if  Napoleon,  at 
the  height  of  his  power,  had  sheathed  the  sword,  and 
devoted  his  talents  and  actions  to  internal  improve¬ 
ments,  and  to  the  reparation  of  the  ravages  which  his 
wars  had  made  in  the  wealth,  the  finances,  the  com¬ 
merce,  the  population,  and  the  agriculture  of  France, 
he  might  have  maintained  the  extended  boundaries 
of  his  empire  and  have  continued  to  reign  over  it. 


CHARACTER  OF  WAR. 


91 


From  the  commencement  to  the  close  of  Xapoleon’s 
career,  the  levies  of  soldiers  in  France  exceeded  four 
millions,  and  not  less  than  three  millions  of  these  per¬ 
ished  in  the  field,  the  hospital  or  the  bivouac.  If  to 
these  we  add  at  least  an  equal  number  out  of  the  ranks 
of  their  antagonists,  it  is  clear  that  not  less  than  six 
millions  of  human  beings  perished  in  warfare  in  the 
course  of  twenty  years,  in  the  very  heart  of  civilized 
Europe,  at  the  commencement  of  the  nineteenth  cen¬ 
tury  of  the  Chistian  era.  But  even  these  stupendous 
numbers  give  us  no  adequate  conception  of  the  de¬ 
struction  of  human  life  directly  consequent  on  the  wars 
of  the  Revolution  and  the  Empire.  We  must  add  the 
thousands  who  perished  from  want,  outrage,  and  ex¬ 
posure,  and  the  hundreds  of  thousands  who  were  subse¬ 
quently  swept  away  by  the  ravages  of  that  pestilence 
which  took  its  rise  amid  the  retreat  from  Russia,  and 
the  crowded  garrisons  of  the  campaign  of  1813,  and 
for  several  years  afterward  desolated  in  succession 
every  country  in  Europe. 

And  even  when  we  have  summed  up  and  laid  before 
us,  in  all  the  magnitude  of  figures,  the  appalling 
destruction  of  life  here  exhibited,  we  can  still  gather 
only  a  faint  and  remote  conception  of  the  sufferings 
and  evils  inflicted  by  this  awful  scourge.  Death  in 
the  field  is  among  the  smallest  of  the  miseries  of  war  : 
the  burned  villages  —  the  devastated  harvests  —  the 
ruined  commerce  —  the  towns  carried  by  assault  —  the 
feeble  and  the  lovely  massacred  and  outraged — grief, 
despair  and  desolation  carried  into  innumerable  fami¬ 
lies, —  these  are  among  the  more  terrific  visitations  of 
military  conflicts,  and  the  blackest  of  the  crimes  for 


92 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IJIS  TIMES. 


which  a  fearful  retribution  will  one  day  be  exacted  at 
the  hands  of  those  who  have  provoked,  originated,  or 
compelled  them. 

If  any  thing  could  awaken  the  statesmen  of  our  age 
to  a  just  estimate  of  war  and  the  warrior,  surely  their 
deeds  and  the  consequences  of  these  deeds  should  do 
so,  when  exhibited  on  a  scale  of  such  tremendous  mag¬ 
nitude.  Yet,  so  far,  the  impression  made  seems  to  have 
been  both  feeble  and  imperfect.  Our  views  with  re¬ 
gard  to  war  are  still  in  singular  discordance  both  with 
our  reason  and  our  religion.  They  appear  to  be  rather 
the  result  of  a  brute  instinct,  than  of  obedience  to  the 
dictates  of  a  sound  sense  or  of  a  pure  faith.  On  all 
other  points,  Christianity  is  the  acknowledged  founda¬ 
tion  of  our  theory  of  morals,  however  widely  we  may 
swerve  from  it  in  practice  ;  but  in  the  case  of  war  we 
do  not  pretend  to  keep  up  even  the  shadow  of  alle¬ 
giance  to  the  authority  of  our  nominal  lawgiver.  “A 
state  of  war,  (says  Robert  Hall,)  is  nothing  less  than  a 
temporary  repeal  of  all  the  principles  of  virtue.  The 
morality  of  peaceful  times  is  directly  opposite  to  the 
maxims  of  war.  The  fundamental  rule  of  the  first  is 
to  do  good  ;  of  the  latter  to  inflict  injuries.  The 
former  commands  us  to  succor  the  oppressed;  the  latter 
to  overwhelm  the  defenseless.  The  rules  of  morality 
will  not  suffer  us  to  promote  the  dearest  interests  by 
falsehood  ;  the  maxims  of  war  applaud  it  when 
employed  for  the  destruction  of  others.” 

How  happens  it  that  our  notions  on  the  subject  of 
■war  are  so  widely  different  from  what  we  have  a  right 
to  suppose  they  would  be  among  a  Christian  people ! 
from  what  they  would  be,  if  Christianity  had  had 


THE  PASSION  FOR  WAR. 


93 


any  share  in  their  formation?  We  think  the  singu¬ 
lar  discrepancy  may  be  traced  to  two  sources.  In  the 
first  place,  the  whole  tone  of  feeling  among  educated 
minds  —  and  through  them  among  other  classes  —  has 
become  thoroughly  perverted  and  demoralized  by  the 
turn  which  is  given  to  their  early  studies.  The  first 
books  to  which  the  attention  of  our  youth  is  sedulously 
and  exclusively  directed,  are  those  of  the  ancient  au¬ 
thors  ;  the  first  poet  they  are  taught  to  relish  and  ad¬ 
mire  is  Homer  ;  the  first  histories  put  into  their  hands, 
(and  with  which  through  life  they  are  commonly  more 
conversant  than  with  any  other,)  are  those  of  Greece 
and  Rome  ;  the  first  biographies  with  which  they  be¬ 
come  familiar  are  those  of  the  heroes  and  warriors  of 
the  wild  times  of  old.  How,  in  those  days  the  staple 
occupation  of  life — at  once  its  business  and  its  pas¬ 
time  —  was  war.  War  was  almost  the  sole  profession  of 
the  rich  and  great,  and  became,  in  consequence,  almost 
the  sole  theme  of  poets  and  historians.  It  is,  therefore, 
the  subject  most  constantly  presented,  and  presented  in 
the  most  glowing  colors,  to  the  mind  of  the  young  stu¬ 
dent,  at  the  precise  period  when  his  mind  is  most  sus¬ 
ceptible  and  most  tenacious  of  new  impressions  ;  the 
exciting  scenes  of  warfare  fill  him  with  deeper  interest 
than  any  other,  and  the  intellectual  and  moral  quali¬ 
ties  of  the  warrior  —  quick  foresight,  rapid  combina¬ 
tion,  iron  resolve,  stern  severity,  impetuous  courage  — 
become  the  objects  of  his  warmest  admiration  ;  he  for¬ 
gets  the  peaceful  virtues  of  charity  and  forbearance,  or 
learns  to  despise  them  ;  he  sees  not  the  obscurer  but 
the  loftier  merits  of  the  philanthropist  and  the  man  of 
science  ;  he  comes  to  look  upon  war  as  the  noblest  of 


94 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


professions,  and  upon  the  warrior  as  the  proudest  of 
human  characters  ;  and  the  impression  thus  early  made 
withstands  all  the  subsequent  efforts  of  reflection  and 
religion  to  dislodge  it.  It  is  difficult  to  overestimate 
the  mischief  wrought  by  this  early  misdirection  of  our 
studies ;  and  that  the  impression  produced  is  such  as 
we  have  represented  it,  every  one  will  acknowledge  on 
a  consideration  of  his  own  feelings. 

The  other  source  of  our  erroneous  sentiments  Avith 
regard  to  war,  may  he  found  in  the  faulty  and  mis¬ 
chievous  mode  in  which  history  has  been  generally 
written.  In  the  first  place,  little  except  war  has  been 
touched  upon  ;  and  the  notion  has  been  thus  left  upon 
the  mind,  either  that  nations  were  occupied  in  war 
alone,  or  that  nothing  else  was  worth  recording.  Those 
silent  but  steady  labors  which  have  gradually  advanced 
the  wealth  of  a  country,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  its 
prosperity  and  power ;  those  toilsome  investigations 
which  have  pushed  forward  the  boundaries  of  human 
knowledge,  and  illustrated  throughout  all  time  the  age 
and  the  land  which  gave  them  birth  ;  that  persevering 
ingenuity  and  unbaffled  skill  which  have  made  science 
the  handmaid  of  art,  and  wrought  out  of  her  discov¬ 
eries  the  materials  of  civilization  and  national  pre-emi¬ 
nence  ;  and,  greater  than  all,  that  profound  and  patient 
thought  which  has  eliminated  the  great  principles  of 
social  and  political  well-being  ;  —  concerning  all  these, 
history  has  been  almost  silent ;  and  the  whole  attention, 
both  of  the  teacher  and  the  student,  has  been  concentra¬ 
ted  upon  “  the  loud  transactions  of  the  outlying  world,” 
while  the  real  progress  of  nations,  and  the  great  and 


DESOLATION  OF  WAR. 


95 


good  men  who  have  contributed  thereunto,  have  alike 
been  consigned  to  oblivion. 

Again,  —  historians  have  seldom  given  a  full  and  fair 
analysis  of  what  war  is.  They  have  described  the 
marches,  the  sieges,  the  able  maneuvers,  the  ingenious 
stratagems,  the  gallant  enterprises,  the  desperate  con 
diets,  the  masterly  combinations,  the  acts  of  heroic 
daring,  with  which  war  abounds ;  and  they  have  sum¬ 
med  up  those  descriptions  of  battles  which  we  read 
with  breathless  interest,  by  informing  us  that  the  vic¬ 
tory  was  gained  with  a  loss  of  so  many  thousands  killed 
and  wounded  —  so  many  thousands  made  prisoners  — 
and  so  many  standards  and  pieces  of  artillery  taken 
from  the  enemy.  But  all  this  is  only  the  outside  color¬ 
ing  of  war,  and  goes  little  way  toward  making  irs  ac- 
quainted  with  its  real  character.  Historians  rarely  tell 
us  of  the  privations  suffered — the  diseases  engendered  — 
the  tortures  undergone  during  a  campaign  ;  still  less 
of  the  vices  ripened,  the  selfishness  confirmed,  the 
hearts  hardened,  by  this  “  temporary  repeal  of  all  the 
principles  of  virtue.”  They  do  not  speak  of  the  ties 
broken  —  of  the  peasants  ruined  —  of  the  hearths  made 
desolate  —  of  grief  never  to  be  comforted  —  of  shame 
never  to  be  wiped  away — of  the  burden  of  abiding 
affliction  brought  upon  many  a  happy  household  —  of 
all  the  nameless  atrocities,  one  of  which  in  peaceful 
times  would  make  our  blood  run  cold,  but  which  in 
war  are  committed  daily,  by  thousands,  with  impunity. 

When  a  statesman  declares  war  in  consequence  of 
any  of  the  ordinary  motives  thereto  —  for  the  sake  of  a 
rich  colony  which  he  is  desirous  to  obtain  ;  to  prevent 


96 


LOUIS  NATOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


an  ambitious  neighbor  from  acquiring  what  might 
render  him  a  formidable  rival ;  to  restore  a  monarch 
dethroned  by  a  people  wearied  of  his  manifold  oppres¬ 
sions  ;  to  resent  a  private  wrong,  or  avenge  a  diplo¬ 
matic  insult  —  his  thoughts  on  the  matter  seldom  travel 
be}rond  the  issuing  of  a  manifesto,  the  appointment  of 
a  general,  the  levying  of  trooj)s,  and  the  imposition 
of  taxes  for  the  maintenance  of  the  contest.  He  is, 
therefore,  wholly  unconscious  what  in  reality  he  is 
doing  ;  —  and  if  a  sage  were  to  go  to  him,  as  Nathan 
went  to  David,  and  say  —  “Sir,  you  have  given  orders 
for  the  commission  of  murder  on  a  monstrous  scale ; 
you  have  directed  that  50,000  of  your  subjects  shall 
send  as  many  of  their  fellow  men,  wholly  unprepared 
for  so  awful  a  change,  into  a  presence  where  they  must 
answer  for  their  manifold  misdeeds  ;  you  have  com¬ 
manded  that  30,000  more  shall  pass  the  best  years  of 
their  life  in  hopeless  imprisonment  — shall  in  fact  be 
punished  as  the  worst  of  criminals,  when  they  have 
committed  no  crime  but  by  your  orders  ;  —  you  have 
arranged  so  that  20,000  more  shall  lie  for  days  on  the 
bare  ground,  horribly  mutilated,  and  slowly  bleeding 
to  death,  and  at  length  only  be  succored  in  order  to 
undergo  the  most  painful  operations,  and  then  perish 
miserably  in  a  hospital ;  you  have  given  orders  that 
numbers  of  innocent  and  lovely  women  —  as  beautiful 
and  delicate  as  your  own  daughters  — shall  undergo 
the  last  indignities  from  the  licensg  of  a  brutal  sol¬ 
diery  ;  you  have  issued  a  fiat  which,  if  not  recalled, 
will  carry  mourning  into  many  families,  will  cut  off  at 
a  stroke  the  delight  of  many  eyes,  will  inflict  upon 
thousands,  now  virtuous  and  contented,  misery  which 


REVIEW  OF  BONAPARTE’S  REIGN.  97 

can  know  no  cure,  and  desolation  which  in  this  world 
can  tind  no  alleviation  ;  ”  —  if  such  a  message  as  this 
were  conveyed  to  him  —  every  word  of  which  would 
be  strictly  true  —  would  he  not  disown  the  ghastly 
image  thus  held  up  to  him,  and  exclaim,  “  Is  thy  ser¬ 
vant  a  dog,  that  he  should  do  this  thing?”  And  if 
statesmen  could  realize  all  this  before  they  put  their 
hand  to  the  declaration  of  hostilities,  would  they  not 
rather  thrust  it  into  the  flames  ? 

With  this  digression  —  if  remarks  can  be  so  called 
which  so  inevitably  grow  out  of  the  subject  we  have 
been  considering  —  we  close  this  hasty  notice  of  the 
career  of  Bonaparte.  The  period  over  which  it  ex¬ 
tends  is,  beyond  all  others,  the  most  thronged  with 
great  events  —  great  in  themselves,  marvelous  in  the 
rapidity  with  which  they  succeeded  each  other,  and 
momentous  and  far-reaching  in  their  consequences. 
In  it  the  most  glorious  prospects  that  ever  dawned 
upon  civilized  humanity,  were  quenched  in  the  darkest 
cloud  that  ever  closed  over  its  destinies.  We  see  the 
overthrow  of  an  ancient  tyranny,  intolerable  from  its 
intense  selfishness,  more  intolerable  still  from  its  very 
dotage  and  decrepitude — and  the  birth,  out  of  its 
ashes,  of  a  wild  and  shapeless  liberty,  at  once  violent 
and  feeble,  stained  with  the  ineradicable  vice  and 
weakness  of  its  origin,  mischievous  and  transient. 
We  see  the  most  prolonged  and  devastating  wars  ever 
waged  upon  the  earth,  ended  by  a  fearful  and  fitting 
retribution  ;  and  the  most  magnificent  genius  of  mod¬ 
ern  times,  within  the  short  space  of  twenty-five  years, 
a  famished  ensign  in  an  unpaid  army,  monarch  of  the 
most  powerful  empire  which  has  existed  since  the  days 


9S 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


of  Trajan,  and,  finally,  a  forsaken  and  solitary  captive 
on  a  barren  rock  in  the  remotest  pathways  of  the 
ocean.  In  a  period  thickly  strewn  with  such  vicissi¬ 
tudes,  there  is  much  food  for  wholesome  contempla¬ 
tion  ;  and  if  the  nations  and  the  rulers  of  our  times 
would  study  its  lessons  with  the  solicitous  humility 
which  their  magnitude  and  their  solemnity  demand, 
the  earth  would  become  rich  in  that  wisdom  which 
grows  out  of  the  grave  of  folly  —  strong  in  that  virtue 
which  springs  out  of  the  recoil  from  sin. 

Upward  of  twenty  years  of  exile  had  passed  over 
the  heads  of  the  expatriated  Bourbons,  when  the  reac¬ 
tion  consequent  upon  the  devouring  ambition  of  Na¬ 
poleon,  drove  him  from  the  throne  and  replaced  them 
in  the  vacant  chair. 

The  following  personages  composed  the  royal  family: 
The  King,  Louis  XVIII.  ;  his  brother,  the  Count  d’  Ar¬ 
tois,  (afterward  Charles  X.) ;  the  two  sons  of  the  latter, 
the  Duke  d’Angouleme  and  the  Duke  de  Berry;  and 
the  Duke  d’ Orleans,  (afterward  Louis  Philippe  I.) 
The  princesses  were  the  Duchess  d’  Angouleme, 
(daughter  of  Louis  XVI.);  the  Duchess  d’ Orleans, 
mother  of  Louis  Philippe  ;  the  Duchess  d’  Orleans, 
wife  of  Louis  Philippe  ;  and  his  sister  Adelaide. 

Louis  XVIII.  was  born  November  15,  1755,  and 
was  bordering  on  his  sixtieth  year  at  the  time  of  the 
restoration.  He  was  brother  to  Louis  XVI.  He  man¬ 
aged  his  escape  from  France,  at  the  period  of  the  Dev¬ 
olution,  with  much  adroitness.  His  only  confidants 
were  his  mistress  and  Count  d’ Avaray,  who  made  pre¬ 
parations  for  his  flight.  He  mixed  with  the  people, 
affected  a  free  and  unembarrassed  air,  and  returned 


ESCAPE  OF  LOUIS  XVIII. 


99 


late  to  his  palace.  He  then  retired  to  his  own  bed¬ 
chamber,  was  undressed  by  his  valet-de-chambre,  who 
slept  in  the  same  room,  and  whom  he  distrusted.  He 
went  to  bed,  closed  the  curtains  one  side,  got  out  at  the 
other  without  noise,  slipped  into  a  cabinet  which  com¬ 
municated  with  a  lobby  of  the  palace,  passed  from 
thence  to  a  lodge,  where  Count  d’ Avaray  was  waiting 
for  him  with  a  disguise  ;  painted  his  eyebrows,  as¬ 
sumed  false  hair  over  his  own,  and  placed  on  his  round 
hat  a  large  tri-colored  cockade.  He  then  descended 
into  the  court  of  the  palace,  where  a  hackney-coach 
was  waiting  for  him.  On  the  quay  he  found  a  travel¬ 
ing  carriage  with  post-horses,  got  into  it  with  his  friend, 
and  with  English  names  and  passports,  passed  the  bar¬ 
riers  without  suspicion.  On  arriving  at  Maubeuge,  the 
last  town  in  France  on  the  Belgian  frontier,  he  bribed 
the  postillion  to  pass  round  the  town,  and  tearing  the 
tri-colored  cockade  off  his  hat,  he  abandoned  himself 
to  joy  on  throwing  away,  at  last,  this  sign  of  his  op¬ 
pression  and  of  his  terror.  When  they  reached  Mons, 
he  pressed  his  deliverer,  Count  d’  Avaray,  in  his  arms, 
and  threw  himself  on  his  knees  to  thank  heaven  for  his 
safety.  Then  mingling  his  scenic  and  literary  souve¬ 
nirs  with  his  self-congratulations  on  his  escape,  with 
characteristic  frivolity,  he  parodied  some  verses  of  an 
opera,  and  applied  their  tragic  meaning  to  the  most 
burlesque  accidents  of  his  disguise  and  journey.  Alas! 
while  he  was  thus  reveling  in  the  isolated  joys  of  his 
own  safety,  his  wife,  of  whose  fate  he  was  ignorant,  was 
running  the  same  dangers  by  another  route  ;  and  the 
king,  the  queen,  their  children,  and  his  sister,  over¬ 
taken  on  the  road  at  Varennes,  were  going  to  pay, 


100 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  LIIS  TIMES. 


with  their  liberty  and  their  lives,  for  this  day  which 
gave  to  him  alone  security  on  a  foreign  soil. 

During  the  overwhelming  success  of  Napoleon,  he 
was  driven  from  court  to  court  on  the  continent,  the 
kings  who  befriended  him  being  successively  compelled 
to  expel  him  from  their  dominions.  He  finally,  (1807,) 
sought  an  asylum  in  England,  where  he  remained  until 
the  overthrow  of  Napoleon. 

When  Louis  XYI.  and  his  queen  Marie  Antoinette, 
were  beheaded,  their  two  children,  a  son  and  daughter, 
were  retained  prisoners,  and  confined  in  loathsome 
dungeons.  The  lad,  (who  was  called  by  the  royalists, 
Louis  XYH.,)  met  with  a  melancholy  death.  Blows, 
scanty  food,  the  damps  and  filth  of  a  dungeon,  were 
inflicted  on  him.  lie  was  even  compelled  to  drink  in¬ 
toxicating  liquors.  lie  had  been  taught  obscene  songs, 
and  his  innocent  hand  had  even  been  forced  to  sign  an 
incestuous  deposition  against  his  own  mother,  the  im¬ 
pious  meaning  of  which  he  did  not  comprehend.  “This 
poor  child,  (said  his  sister,  who  was  liberated,)  lay  wal¬ 
lowing  in  his  infected  dungeon,  amidst  filth  and  rags. 
It  was  swept  out  only  once  a  month.  His  sense  of 
feeling  was  obliterated;  he  lived  like  an  unclean  rep¬ 
tile  in  a  common  sewer.”  “It  is  well  known,  (said 
Ilarmand,  a  representative  in  the  National  Assembly, 
who  visited  him,)  that  Simon,  his  jailer,  played  cruel 
tricks  with  the  sleep  of  his  prisoner.  Without  any  re¬ 
gard  for  an  age  when  sleep  is  so  imperative  a  -want,  he 
repeatedly  called  him  up  in  the  course  of  the  night. 
‘  Here  I  am,  citizen,’  would  the  poor  child  reply,  shiver¬ 
ing  with  cold.  ‘  Come  here,  and  let  me  touch  you,’ 
Simon  would  exclaim ;  then  striking  or  kicking  him, 


LOUIS  XVIII. 


101 


■would  cry  out,  ‘get  to  bed,  you  young  wolf.”’  From 
the  time  when  he  understood  the  nature  of  the  crimes 
he  had  been  made  to  charge  his  mother  with,  he  main¬ 
tained  uniform  silence,  and  died,  June  9, 1795,  without 
uttering  a  word.  Upon  his  death,  his  uncle  assumed 
the  title  of  Louis  XVIII.,  although  he  was,  for  nearly 
twenty  years  afterward,  an  exile  from  France. 

The  throne  of  France  was  finally  bestowed  upon 
him,  in  1811,  by  the  allied  powers,  and  not  by  the 
choice  of  the  French  people.  There  was,  consequently, 
from  the  beginning,  a  feeling  of  distrust  between  him 
and  the  nation.  His  measures  were  illy  calculated  to 
conciliate  the  good  will  of  the  people.  lie  seemed  re¬ 
solved  to  make  use  of  the  victory  which  the  allies  had 
won  for  him,  to  restore  the  most  odious  features  of  the 
monarchy  which  the  nation  had  violently  discarded  a 
quarter  of  a  century  previous. 

The  nation  wished,  1st.  to  have  its  political  liberties 
secured,  and  the  right  of  being  represented  by  depu¬ 
ties,  chosen  by  the  people  ;  2d.  that  the  personal  free¬ 
dom  of  individuals  should  be  secured  from  prosecu¬ 
tions  for  imaginary  crimes,  contrary  to  legal  forms  ; 
3d.  the  equality  of  citizens  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  and 
the  right  of  all  to  obtain  any  civil  or  military  dignity, 
by  merit  and  talents  ;  4th.  the  abolition  of  feudal  ser¬ 
vice  ;  5th.  the  right,  in  criminal  accusations,  to  be 
judged  by  a  jury  ;  6th.  the  independence  of  the  judi¬ 
ciary  from  every  other  power  in  the  state;  7th.  the 
right  of  levying  taxes  by  their  representatives,  and  all 
classes  in  proportion  to  their  property  ;  8th.  the  right 
of  every  individual  to  exercise  any  means  of  gaining  a 
living  which  did  not  interfere  with  the  rights  of  other 


102 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  ins  TIMES. 


citizens  ;  9th.  the  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press, 
or  the  right  of  every  one  to  communicate  his  thoughts 
to  his  fellow  citizens,  in  public  meetings  or  through  the 
press;  and  10th.  the  right  of  every  one  to  perform  di¬ 
vine  worship  in  his  own  way,  without  molestation. 

So  entirely  was  the  spirit  of  Louis  XVIIL’s  govern¬ 
ment  at  variance  with  that  of  the  nation,  that  many 
individuals,  who  had  at  first  welcomed  the  return  of 
the  royal  family,  became  convinced  that  the  Bourbons 
and  France  were  no  longer  fit  for  each  other.  Al¬ 
though  Louis  XVIII.  possessed  much  natural  sagacity, 
he  had,  during  his  long  exile,  become  enfeebled  by  age 
and  disease  ;  he  did  not  understand  the  change  which 
had  been  wrought  in  the  character  of  the  people  of 
France.  It  was  said  to  him,  with  equal  justice  and 
severity,  that  during  his  exile  “he  had  forgotten  noth¬ 
ing  and  learned  nothing.”  He  carried  on  against  the 
constitution  he  had  granted  the  people,  a  series  of  petty 
thefts  and  paltry  invasions,  and  left  to  his  successor  a 
government  whose  origin  was  odious  and  whose  ad¬ 
ministration  was  regarded  with  hatred.  Innocent  in¬ 
dividuals,  charged  with  political  crimes,  were  often 
kept  in  close  confinement  for  years,  before  being  set 
at  liberty.  In  the  prisons,  condemned  criminals  were 
confined  with  those  who  were  merely  confined  for 
trial  —  the  worst  of  criminals  were  mingled  with  men 
detained  only  for  political  offenses.  It  was  also  a 
source  of  discontent,  which  existed  until  the  final  ban¬ 
ishment  of  the  Bourbons,  that  the  nation  was  not  per¬ 
mitted  to  choose  a  single  magistrate.  All  officers  were 
appointed  by  the  government,  and  the  councils  of  the 
departments  into  which  the  kingdom  was  divided, 


CLAIMANTS  FOR  THE  CROWN. 


103 


professedly  declared  the  wishes  of  the  people,  al¬ 
though  wholly  unauthorized,  so  that  their  voices  were 
often  opposed  to  the  opinion  of  the  majority  in  the 
departments.  The  national  guard  was  not  permitted 
to  elect  its  own  officers,  and  was  a  mere  instrument, 
in  the  hands  of  the  king. 

Until  the  deatli  of  Louis  XYIII.,  the  government  was 
almost  constantly  engaged  in  the  suppression  of  local 
insurrection  caused  by  the  disaffection  of  the  people. 
Probably  the  existence  of  Napoleon,  on  a  rock  far 
away  in  the  ocean,  saved  the  throne  of  Louis  XYIII. 
from  overthrow.  While  Napoleon  lived,  all  other 
pretensions  besides  his  were  impossible ;  when  he 
died,  pretenders  rushed  thick  upon  the  field  of  con¬ 
spiracy.  There  was  a  party  for  Napoleon  II.,  a  party 
for  Joseph  Bonaparte,  and  another  for  Prince  Eugene. 
The  latter  was  so  much  in  earnest  that  Lafayette  was 
offered  the  sum  of  a  million  of  dollars,  to  cover  the 
first  cost  of  a  Revolution  in  favor  of  the  brother  of 
Queen  Ilortense.  This  Lafayette  neither  declined  nor 
accepted,  but  he  was  supposed  to  favor  the  pretensions 
of  Joseph  Bonaparte.  Louis  XYIII.  never  felt  him¬ 
self  secure  on  the  throne,  and  was  more  than  once  on 
the  point  of  flying  from  the  country.  lie  died  Sep¬ 
tember  16, 1S2L  “  Ilad  he  lived  a  little  longer,”  said 
the  late  J.  Fenimore  Cooper,  in  a  letter  from  Paris, 
written  in  1825,  “  he  would  most  probably  have  been 
dethroned  before  this ;  the  hopes  and  the  expectations 
which  usually  accompany  a  new  reign,  having,  most 
probably,  deferred  the  crisis  for  a  few  years.”  The 
crisis  did  come,  four  years  after  Mr.  Cooper  wrote 
the  above,  and.  the  successor  of  Louis  XYLH.  was 


104 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


dethroned.  The  king,  although  he  could  not  learn 
wisdom  from  his  fears,  always  retained  a  lively  remem¬ 
brance  of  the  night  when,  about  a  year  after  his  first 
restoration,  a  courier  knocked  suddenly  at  the  gate  of  the 
Tuileries.  Ilis  knock  was  that  of  a  man  who  brought 
bad  news  :  he  was  told  that  the  king  slept,  but  his  an¬ 
swer  was  that  he  must  immediately  be  awakened  ;  for 
there  had  been  seen  on  the  road  a  little  man  in  a  small 
hat,  dressed  in  a  gray  coat,  with  his  hands  crossed  be¬ 
hind  him,  who  arrived  on  foot  and  alone,  with  his 
sword  in  its  scabbard,  again  to  take  the  constitutional 
throne  of  France  from  its  legitimate  kings.  Thus  said 
the  courier,  and  he  would  take  no  reward  for  the  intel¬ 
ligence  ;  he  chose  it  should  be  an  act  of  charity  to  the 
house  of  Bourbon.  Louis  XY11I.  was  obliged  to  quit 
the  palace,  as  speedily  as  if  it  had  been  on  fire.  lie 
did  not  even  stop  to  have  the  sheets  taken  from  his 
bed,  or  to  secure  his  prescriptions  from  his  room.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  Emperor  arrived  so  quickly,  that  he 
found  the  room  in  disorder,  the  physic  scattered,  and 
chicken-bones  half  picked,  under  the  bed.  The  last 
incident  was  told  by  a  person  who  entered  the  Em¬ 
peror’s  bedroom  just  as  he  was  surveying  it.  “  Look, 
(said  he,)  as  if  it  were  not  enough  to  make  a  kitchen  of 
my  bedroom,  they  have  made  a  dog-kennel  of  it.” 
For  this  visit  to  that  “  dog-kennel”  the  Emperor  was 
hurled  into  the  abyss  of  Waterloo. 

It  is  reported  that  Louis  XVHI.,  while  sitting  on  the 
fauteuil  on  which  he  wras  about  to  expire,  surrounded 
by  high  personages  in  tears,  and  his  face  overspread 
with  the  ghastliness  of  hastening  dissolution,  called  to 
his  side  the  youngest  and  weakliest  prince  of  his 


CHARLES  X. 


105 


family,  and  laying  his  hand  on  the  child’s  head,  as  it 
bent  to  receive  his  blessing,  said,  “Let  iny  brother 
be  careful  of  the  crown  of  this  child.”  Not  long  after, 
the  princes  and  several  grand  officers  were  assembled 
in  another  part  of  the  palace,  and  seemed  as  though  in 
expectancy  of  some  momentous  event.  Suddenly  a 
door  of  the  apartment  was  thrown  open,  and  a  voice 
cried  out, — “The  King,  sirs.”  It  was  Charles  X.  that 
entered.  Louis  XVIII.  had  just  expired. 

Charles  X.,  the  youngest  brother  of  Louis  XVI.  and 
Louis  XVIII.,  was  born  October  9,  1757,  and  was  con¬ 
sequently  sixty-seven  years  of  age  when  he  ascended 
the  throne.  In  his  youth  he  had  been  the  idol  of  his 
family,  of  the  court  and  of  Paris.  His  handsome  per¬ 
son,  his  gracefulness,  the  thoughtlessness  of  his  char¬ 
acter,  even  the  frivolity  of  his  mind,  won  him  the 
affections  of  the  aristocracy.  He  affected  to  look  upon 
the  coming  Revolution  as  one  of  those  transient 
commotions  of  the  lower  orders,  which  should  be  sup¬ 
pressed  and  not  discussed.  None  of  those  ideas  which 
then  filled  the  rest  of  the  world  had  ever  entered  into 
his  head;  for  those  ideas  pre-supposed  intelligence,  and 
he  never  reflected.  Spoiled  by  the  court;  flattered  by 
a  circle  of  the  young  aristocracy,  as  frivolous  and 
unreflecting  as  himself ;  held  forth  to  the  army  and 
nobility  as  the  prince  who  would  shortly  rally  them 
around  the  standard  of  absolute  monarchy,  and  who 
was  to  dissipate,  with  the  point  of  the  sword,  all  the 
liberal  dreams  of  the  nation  —  this  prince  was  blind  to 
the  Revolution.  The  men  of  the  Revolution  regarded 
him  with  contempt  or  indifference ;  they  did  not  fear 
him  enough  to  hate  him.  Yet  he  was  the  first  to 


106 


LOUIS  NAPOLKON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


escape  from  the  impending  ruin.  Among  hie  vices,  a 
passion  for  the  fair  sex  was  predominant.  Although 
married,  he  had  an  amour  with  the  Countess  de  Polas- 
tron,  who  abandoned  her  husband  and  followed  him  to 
foreign  lauds.  Consoled  and  intoxicated  by  the  charms 
and  the  tenderness  of  this  accomplished  woman,  he  had 
renounced,  in  his  passion  and  fidelity  for  her,  all  the 
trifling  liaisons  which  his  personal  beauty  had  formed 
around  him  in  his  youth.  He  only  lived  in  future  for 
Madame  Polastron,  who  was  for  him  the  model  of  liv¬ 
ing  tenderness.  A  decline,  aggravated  by  the  humid 
climate  of  England,  seized  on  Madame  Polastron,  and 
she  beheld  death  slowly  approaching  her,  in  all  the 
freshness  of  her  charms,  and  all  the  delights  of  a  mu¬ 
tual  flame.  Religion,  however,  (as  many  French  wo¬ 
men  understand  it,)  consoled  her,  and  she  wished  to 
impart  its  consolation  and  its  immortality  to  her  lover. 
He  became  a  convert,  at  the  voice  of  that  love  which 
had  so  often  and  so  delightfully  dissipated  his  serious 
thoughts.  One  of  his  almoners,  who  has  since  become 
Cardinal  Latil,  received,  even  in  the  chamber  of  the 
repentant  beauty,  the  confession  and  the  remorse  of  the 
two  lovers.  “Swear  to  me,  (said  Madame  de  Polas¬ 
tron  to  the  young  prince,)  that  I  shall  be  your  last  fault 
and  your  last  love  upon  earth,  and  that  after  me  you 
will  love  only  the  object  of  whom  I  cannot  be  jealous  — 
God  himself.”  The  prince  took  the  oath  with  his  heart 
and  his  lips,  and  Madame  Polastron,  thus  consoled, 
carried  with  her  last  embrace  his  oath  to  the  grave. 
From  this  day  he  was  an  altered  man.  But  that  prob¬ 
ity  of  heart  which  he  found  in  love,  and  that  piety 
which  he  drew  from  death,  only  changed  the  nature  of 


CORONATION'  OF  CHARLES  X. 


107 


his  weaknesses.  His  new  virtues  bad  from  that  day, 
for  him,  the  effect  of  his  ancient  faults.  They  con¬ 
tracted  his  understanding  without  elevating  his  cour¬ 
age.  They  delivered  him  over  entirely  to  ecclesiastical 
influences,  which  piously  took  advantage  of  his  con¬ 
science,  as  others  had  done  of  his  levities. 

Charles  X.  was  admirably  adapted  for  the  task  he 
proposed  to  himself,  upon  ascending  the  throne.  No 
one  in  a  shorter  time,  by  any  possible  maneuvering, 
could  so  effectually  have  ruined  his  own  fortunes  and 
those  of  all  who  belonged  to  him.  September  27, 1824, 
he  made  his  first  public  entry  into  Paris,  on  horseback, 
and  in  the  month  of  May  following,  he  was  crowned  at 
Kheims,  where  many  ancient  customs,  and  some  ridic¬ 
ulous  usages,  were  revived.  For  instance,  the  vial  con¬ 
taining  the  holy  oil,  (which  was  said  to  have  been 
brought,  in  former  ages,  by  a  dove  from  heaven,)  was 
again  restored.  Power  was  scarcely  in  his  grasp,  be¬ 
fore  threats  were  held  out  to  those  who  should  dare  to 
question  the  royal  will,  or  oppose  the  king’s  govern¬ 
ment.  Charles  X.  hoped  to  establish  an  absolute 
despotism  among  the  people  of  France.  After  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century  of  bloodshed,  revolution, 
anarchy,  civil  and  foreign  warfare,  this  was  the  result 
of  the  great  lesson.  Humanity  sighs  as  it  contemplates 
the  incapacity  of  dunces  in  a  school  where  the  dullest 
may  find  instruction  if  they  will.  The  people,  natur¬ 
ally  enough,  refused  to  be  coerced  into  a  love  of  his 
majesty’s  government,  and  his  majesty,  with  character¬ 
istic  obstinacy,  declared  his  resolution  “to  be  unalter¬ 
able.”  France  had  positively  to  do  its  work  over 
again  from  the  beginning ! 


108 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  ANT)  HIS  TIMES. 


The  royal  family  were  extremely  unpopular.  The 
utmost  indifference,  if  not  actual  aversion,  was  mani¬ 
fested  when  they  appeared  in  public.  The  following 
account  of  their  appearance  at  the  races,  near  Paris,  in 
1826,  is  from  the  pen  of  an  eye-witness,  and  gives  a 
graphic  illustration  of  the  public  opinion.  “During 
the  heats,  accompanied  by  a  young  American  friend,  I 
had  strolled  among  the  royal  equipages,  in  order  to 
examine  their  magnificence,  and  returning  toward  the 
course,  we  came  out  unexpectedly  at  a  little  open 
space,  immediately  at  one  end  of  the  pavilion,  in 
which  the  royal  family  was  seated.  There  were  not  a 
dozen  peojde  near  us,  and  one  of  these  was  a  sturdy 
Englishman,  evidently  a  tradesman,  who  betrayed  a 
keen  and  a  truly  national  desire  to  get  a  look  at  the 
king.  The  head  of  a  little  girl  was  just  visible  above 
the  side  of  the  pavilion,  and  my  companion,  who,  by  a 
singular  accident,  not  long  before,  had  been  thrown  into 
company  with  les  enfans  de  France,"  (as  the  royal 
children  are  called,)  informed  me  that  it  was  Mademoi¬ 
selle  d’ Artois,  the  sister  of  the  heir  presumptive.  lie 
had  given  me  a  favorable  account  of  the  children, 
whom  he  represented  as  both  lively  and  intelligent,  and 
I  changed  my  position  a  little,  to  get  a  better  look  of 
the  face  of  this  little  personage,  who  was  not  twenty 
feet  from  the  spot  where  we  stood.  My  movement  at¬ 
tracted  her  attention,  and,  after  looking  down  a  moment 
into  the  small  area  in  which  we  were  inclosed,  she 
disappeared.  Presently  a  lady  looked  over  the  balus¬ 
trade,  and  our  Englishman  seemed  to  be  on  tenter¬ 
hooks.  Some  thirty  or  forty  French  gathered  round  us 

*  Children  of  France. 


UN  POPULARITY  OF  THE  ROYAL  FAMILY.  109 

immediately,  and  I  presume  it  was  thought  none  but 
loyal  subjects  could  manifest  so  much  desire  to  gaze 
at  the  family,  especially  as  one  or  two  of  the  French 
clapped  the  little  princess,  whose  head  now  appeared 
and  disappeared  again, 'as  if  she  were  earnestly  press¬ 
ing  something  on  the  attention  of  those  within  the 
pavilion.  In  a  moment,  the  form  of  a  pale  and  sickly- 
looking  boy  was  seen,  the  little  girl,  who  was  a  year  or 
two  older,  keeping  her  place  at  his  side.  The  boy  was 
raised  on  the  knee  of  a  melancholy-looking  and  rather 
hard-featured  female  of  fifty,  who  removed  his  straw 
hat,  in  order  to  salute  us.  ‘There  are  the  Dauphine* 
and  the  Due  de  Bordeaux,’  ■whispered  my  companion, 
who  knew  the  person  of  the  former  by  sight.  The 
Dauphine  looked  anxiously,  and  I  thought  mournfully, 
at  the  little  cluster  we  formed  directly  before  her,  as  if 
waiting  to  observe  in  what  manner  her  nephew  would 
be  received.  Of  course  my  friend  and  myself,  who  were 
in  the  foreground,  stood  uncovered ;  as  gentlemen  we 
could  not  do  less,  nor  as  foreign  gentlemen  could  we 
very  well  do  more.  Not  a  Frenchman,  however,  even 
touched  his  hat!  On  the  other  hand,  the  Englishman 
straddled  his  legs,  gave  a  wide  sweep  with  his  beaver, 
and  uttered  as  hearty  a  hurrah  as  if  he  had  been  cheer¬ 
ing  a  member  of  Parliament  who  gave  gin  in  his  beer. 
The  effect  of  this  single,  unaccompanied,  unanswered 
cheer,  was  both  ludicrous  and  painful.  The  poor  fel¬ 
low  himself  seemed  startled  at  hearing  his  own  voice 
amid  so  profound  a  stillness,  and  checking  his  zeal  as 
unexpectedly  as  he  had  commenced  its  exhibition,  be 
looked  furiously  around  him,  and  walked  surlily  away. 

•  Wife  of  the  heir  apparent. 


110 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


The  Dauphine  followed  him  with  her  eyes.  There 
was  no  mistaking  his  gaitered  limbs,  dogged  mien,  and 
florid  countenance  ;  he  clearly  was  not  French,  and 
those  that  were,  as  clearly  turned  his  enthusiasm  into 
ridicule.  1  felt  sorry  for  her,  as  with  a  saddened  face, 
she  set  down  the  boy,  and  withdrew  her  own  head 
within  the  covering  of  the  pavilion.  The  little  Mad¬ 
emoiselle  d’ Artois  kept  ner  bright  looks,  in  a  sort  of 
wonder,  on  us,  until  the  circumspection  of  those  around 
her  gave  her  a  hint  to  disappear.  This  was  the  first 
direct  and  near  view  I  got  of  the  true  state  of  popular 
feeling  in  Paris,  toward  the  reigning  family.  Accord¬ 
ing  to  the  journals  in  the  interest  of  the  court,  enthusi¬ 
asm  was  invariably  exhibited  whenever  any  of  their 
princes  appeared  in  public.” 

The  affairs  of  France  were  fast  hastening  to  a  crisis. 
Charles  X.,  in  1829,  appointed  Prince  Polignac  to  the 
head  of  the  administration,  a  man  known  to  entertain 
the  most  arbitrary  purposes.  Prince  Polignac  was 
supposed  to  be  an  illegitimate  son  of  Charles  X.,  by  a 
lady  of  the  court  of  his  brother,  Louis  XVI.  The  king 
had  long  desired  to  make  him  prime  minister,  despite 
the  views  of  the  people.  Never  had  a  ministry  in 
any  country  to  encounter  such  a  storm  of  virulence 
and  invective,  as  that  which  assailed  the  cabinet  of 
Prince  Polignac.  Charles  more  than  shared  the  odium 
thrown  on  his  obnoxious  favorite;  his  patronage  of  the 
Jesuits  and  monastic  orders,  his  revival  of  austere  and 
rigid  etiquette  in  his  court,  and  his  marked  dislike  of 
those  who  had  acquired  eminence  in  the  Revolution,  or 
under  Napoleon,  were  circumstances  which  rendered 
him  unpopular  with  the  great  bulk  of  the  nation  so 


WAR  IN  ALGIERS. 


Ill 


long  estranged  from  the  Bourbons  and  their  policy. 
Polignac  defied  the  storm  ;  hut  unfortunately,  as  the 
contest  continued,  he  departed  from  the  course  ot 
caution  and  prudence,  probably  because  injustice  had 
driven  him  into  anger,  and  he  soon  furnished  his 
adversaries  with  just  grounds  for  continued  hostility. 
When  the  chambers  assembled,  the  royal  speech  was  a 
direct  attack  on  the  first  principles  of  the  constitution, 
concluding  with  a  threat  of  resuming  the  concessions 
made  by  the  charter,  which  was  notoriously  impotent, 
and  therefore  supremely  ridiculous.  A  very  uncourtly 
reply  was  voted  by  the  chamber  of  deputies,  after  a 
very  animated  debate,  by  a  majority  of  forty.  The 
only  alternative  now  left  was  a  dissolution  of  the 
chambers,  or  a  change  of  the  ministry  ;  Charles  X. 
chose  the  former,  trusting  that  events  might  turn  the 
popular  current,  and  give  him  a  more  manageable 
chamber  at  a  new  election. 

Charles  and  his  minister  appear  to  have  hoped  that 
their  unpopularity  would  be  overcome,  and  their  fu¬ 
ture  projects  facilitated,  by  gratifying  the  taste  of  the 
French  people  for  military  glory.  An  armament  was 
therefore  prepared  with  extraordinary  care,  and  sent 
against  Algiers,  under  the  pretext  that  the  dey  had  in¬ 
sulted  the  honor  of  France.  The  success  of  the  ex¬ 
pedition  corresponded  with  the  exertions  made  to 
insure  it ;  the  city  of  Algiers  was  taken  after  a  very 
slight  resistance,  the  dey  was  sent  prisoner  to  Italy, 
and  his  vast  treasures  remained  at  the  disposal  of  the 
conquerors.  It  was  reasonable  that  the  maritime  pow¬ 
ers  should  feel  jealous  at  the  establishment  of  French 
garrisons  and  colonies  in  northern  Africa ;  to  allay 


112 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


their  suspicions,  a  promise  was  made  that  the  oecupa 
tion  of  Algiers  should  be  merely  temporary ;  but  the 
French  nation  formed  such  an  infatuated  attachment 
to  their  conquest,  that  they  have  kept  it  ever  since, 
though  it  costs  an  annual  waste  of  life  and  treasure, 
without  conferring  any  appreciable  advantage  either 
on  Africa  or  on  France.  Polignac,  relying  on  the 
moral  effect  which  the  conquest  of  Algiers  wrould 
produce,  dissolved  the  chambers,  but  with  the  same 
infatuation  which  seems  to  have  directed  all  his  move¬ 
ments,  he  at  the  same  time  dismissed  the  only  two 
moderate  members  of  his  cabinet,  and  supplied  their 
places  by  the  most  unpopular  men  in  France.  Such  a 
course,  as  ought  to  have  been  foreseen,  more  than 
counterbalanced  any  benefit  which  the  ministers  might 
have  gained  from  the  conquest  of  Algiers ;  the  elec¬ 
tions  left  them  in  a  miserable  minority,  and  matters 
were  brought  to  a  crisis.  The  majority  of  the  com¬ 
mercial  classes  and  landed  proprietors  in  France 
dreaded  the  renewal  of  civil  commotions ;  they  knew 
that  there  ivas  an  active  republican  party  in  the  coun¬ 
try,  which,  though  not  very  numerous,  was  very  ener¬ 
getic  ;  they  feared,  and  not  without  reason,  that  the 
triumph  of  this  party  would  terminate  in  another  revo¬ 
lutionary  struggle.  But  at  the  same  time,  these  classes 
were  equally  hostile  to  the  restoration  of  the  ancient 
despotism,  which  they  believed  to  be  the  object  of  the 
king  and  his  ministers.  Had  Charles  X.  declared  that 
he  would  be  contented  with  the  prerogatives  of  a  con¬ 
stitutional  monarch,  dismissed  his  obnoxious  minis¬ 
ters,  and  formed  a  cabinet  of  moderate  men,  the  crisis 
would  have  passed  over  without  danger ;  unfortunately, 


FREEDOM  OF  TIIE  TRESS  ABOLISHED. 


113 


more  arbitrary  councils  prevailed  ;  Polignac  and  his 
colleagues  resolved  to  terminate  the  struggle  by  sub¬ 
verting  the  constitution. 

Charles  X.  was  a  gentlemanly  and  good-natured  old 
man,  but  obstinate  and  in  his  dotage.  Seeing  and 
fearing  the  head-way  which  liberal  opinions  were  mak¬ 
ing  in  France,  he  had  the  folly  to  appoint  a  ministry, 
each  individual  of  which  was  a  known  opponent  of 
liberal  principles,  and  especially  obnoxious  to  the 
French  people.  The  public  press  immediately  opened 
upon  this  ministry  the  most  harassing  and  merciless 
warfare.  Charles,  annoyed  and  irritated  by  the  loud 
and  continued  demonstrations  of  the  public  hatred, 
with  a  degree  of  insanity  to  which  we  can  hardly  find 
a  parallel  even  in  the  folly  of  princes,  determined  to 
abolish  the  freedom  of  the  press,  and  silence  these 
voices  of  the  nation.  On  Monday  morning,  (July  26, 
1830,)  the  Moniteur,  the  government  paper,  appeared 
with  an  ordinance  declaring,  among  other  obnoxious 
articles,  that  at  all  times  the  periodical  press' had  been, 
and  it  was  its  nature  to  be,  only  an  instrument  of  dis¬ 
order  and  sedition.  It  therefore  declared  that  the  free¬ 
dom  of  the  press  was  no  longer  to  be  permitted,  but 
that  it  was  placed  under  the  censorship  of  the  govern¬ 
ment.  Upon  the  appearance  of  this  execrable  ordi¬ 
nance,  excitement  and  indignation  flamed  like  a  con¬ 
flagration  through  every  lane  and  alley  of  the  city. 
Thousands  began  to  assemble  around  the  reading- 
rooms.  The  great  thoroughfares  leading  to  the  public 
squares  of  the  city,  to  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries,  and 
the  Palais  Royal,  were  thronged  with  the  roused  mas¬ 
ses,  crowding  to  these  centres  of  intelligence.  Readers, 


114  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  niS  TIMES. 

mounted  upon  barrels  and  chairs,  loudly  read  the 
government  ordinance  to  the  gathering  multitude. 

As  the  police  endeavored  to  arrest  a  man  who  was 
reading  the  new  laws  to  the  excited  crowd,  he  indig¬ 
nantly  replied,  “  I  am  only  blowing  the  trumpet :  if 
you  dislike  the  notes,  go  settle  the  matter  with  those 
who  composed  the  music.”  During  the  day,  the  ap¬ 
pearance  of  serious  popular  commotion  became  more 
and  more  threatening.  As  the  shades  of  night  dark¬ 
ened  the  streets  of  the  inflamed  city,  cries  of  “  Live 
the  Constitution !  ”  “  Down  with  the  Bourbons  !  ” 

“  Death  to  the  ministry !  ”  resounded  through  the 
gloom.  As  the  mounted  troops  of  the  king  were  driv¬ 
ing  the  gathering  people  from  one  of  the  streets,  the 
populace  seized  upon  a  passing  omnibus,  overturned  it, 
and,  throwing  around  it  such  articles  of  heavy  furni¬ 
ture  as  could  be  gathered  from  the  adjoining  dwellings, 
formed  a  barricade  which  effectually  arrested  the  pro¬ 
gress  of  the  troops.  Behind  this  barricade  they  val¬ 
iantly  defended  themselves  with  paving  stones  and 
every  missile  within  their  reach.  Instantaneously, 
every  mind  saw  the  efficacy  of  this  measure.  The 
lamps  lighting  the  city  were  dashed,  and  the  populace 
toiled  the  livelong  night  in  the  mystery  of  darkness, 
making  arrangements  for  the  conflict  of  the  morrow. 
Crowds  of  students  from  the  military  schools  thronged 
the  streets,  filling  the  midnight  air  with  the  Marseilles 
Hymn,  those  spirit-stirring  words,  which,  in  the  old 
Revolution,  so  often  roused  the  multitude  to  frenzy. 

On  the  morning  of  the  27th,  few  of  the  journals  ap¬ 
peared,  for  the  publication  of  those  which  were  not 
sanctioned  by  the  minister  of  the  interior  was  prohibited 


THE  RIOT  BECOMES  A  REVOLUTION. 


115 


by  the  police.  The  proprietors  of  two  journals  printed 
their  papers  in  defiance  of  the  ordinance,  and  the  first 
disturbance  was  occasioned  by  the  police  forcing  an  en¬ 
trance  into  their  establishments,  breaking  the  presses, 
scattering  the  types,  and  rendering  the  machinery  un¬ 
serviceable.  So  little  was  an  insurrection  anticipated, 
that  Charles,  accompanied  by  the  dauphin,  went  on  a 
hunting  match  to  Rambouillet  ;  and  his  ministers  neg¬ 
lected  the  ordinary  precaution  of  strengthening  the 
garrison  of  the  capital. 

Between  six  and  seven  o’clock  in  the  evening,  some 
detachments  of  troops  were  sent  to  the  aid  of  the 
police  ;  this  was  the  signal  for  commencing  the  con¬ 
test  ;  several  smart  skirmishes  took  place  between  the 
citizens  and  the  soldiers,  in  which  the  latter  were  gen¬ 
erally  successful,  so  that  Marmont,  the  military  gover¬ 
nor  of  Paris,  wrote  a  letter  to  the  king,  congratulating 
him  on  the  suppression  of  the  riot,  while  the  minis¬ 
ters  issued  their  last  ordinance,  declaring  Paris  in  a 
state  of  siege.  When  night  closed  in,  the  citizens 
destroyed  every  lamp  in  the  city,  thus  securing  the 
protection  of  darkness  for  their  preparation  to  renew 
the  struggle. 

On  the  morning  of  the  28th,  Marmont  was  aston¬ 
ished  to  find  that  the  riots  which  he  had  deemed 
suppressed,  had  assumed  the  formidable  aspect  of  a 
revolution.  The 'citizens  were  ready  and  organized  for 
a  decisive  contest ;  they  wrere  in  possession  of  the  arse¬ 
nal  and  the  powder  magazine  ;  they  had  procured 
arms  from  the  shops  of  the  gunsmiths  and  the  police 
stations ;  they  erected  barricades  across  the  principal 
streets,  and  had  selected  leaders  competent  to  direct 


116 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


their  exertions.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  mar¬ 
shal  hesitated  before  taking  any  decisive  step  ;  it  was 
noon  before  he  had  resolved  how  to  act,  and  he  then 
determined  to  clear  the  streets  by  military  force.  He 
divided  his  troops  into  four  columns,  which  he  directed 
to  move  in  different  directions,  thus  unwisely  separat¬ 
ing  his  forces,  so  that  they  could  not  act  in  concert. 
Every  step  taken  by  the  columns  was  marked  by  a 
series  of  murderous  conflicts  ;  they  were  assailed  with 
musketry  from  the  barricades,  from  the  windows  and 
tops  of  houses,  from  the  corners  of  street's,  and  from 
the  narrow  alleys  and  passages  which  abound  in  Paris. 
When  the  cavalry  attempted  to  charge,  they  were 
overwhelmed  with  stones  and  articles  of  furniture 
flung  from  the  houses  ;  their  horses  stumbled  in  the 
unpaved  streets,  or  were  checked  by  the  barricades, 
while  the  citizens,  protected  by  their  dwellings,  kept  up 
a  heavy  fire,  which  the  disheartened  horsemen  were 
unable  to  return.  Though  the  royal  guards  performed 
their  duty,  the  troops  of  the  line  showed  great  reluc¬ 
tance  to  fire  on  the  citizens,  and  hence  the  insurgents 
were  enabled  to  seize  many  important  points  with  little 
or  no.  opposition.  When  evening  closed,  the  troops 
had  been  defeated  in  every  direction  ;  they  returned 
to  their  barracks,  weary,  hungry,  and  dispirited  ;  by 
some  inexplicable  blunder,  no  provision  was  made  for 
their  refreshment,  wdiile  every  family  in  Paris  vied  in 
supplying  the  insurgents  with  every  thing  they  wanted. 

Marmont  was  now  fully  sensible  of  the  perils  of  his 
situation  ;  he  wrote  to  the  infatuated  king,  represent¬ 
ing  the  dangerous  condition  of  Paris,  and  soliciting 
fresh  instructions ;  the  orders  he  received  in  reply, 


TIIE  EXILED  BONAPARTES. 


117 


urged  Iiira  to  persevere.  The  contest  was  renewed  on 
the  morning  of  the  third  day,  the  soldiers  evincing 
great  feebleness,  while  the  populace  seemed  animated 
by  a  certainty  of  success.  While  the  issue  was  yet 
doubtful,  two  regiments  of  the  line  went  over  to  the 
insurgents  in  a  body  ;  the  citizens,  thus  strengthened, 
rushed  through  the  gap  which  this  defection  left  in  the 
royal  line,  took  the  Louvre  by  assault,  and  soon  com¬ 
pelled  the  troops  that  remained  faithful  to  the  royal 
cause,  either  to  lay  down  their  arms  or  evacuate  Paris. 
The  Revolution  was  speedily  completed  by  the  instal¬ 
lation  of  a  provisional  government  ;  measures  were 
adopted  for  the  speedy  convocation  of  the  chambers, 
and  in  a  few  hours  the  capital  had  nearly  assumed  its 
ordinary  aspect  of  tranquillity. 

Charles  and  his  ministers  appear  to  have  believed 
that  the  country  would  not  follow  the  example  of 
Paris.  They  were  speedily  convinced  of  their  error ; 
the  king  was  abandoned,  not  only  by  his  courtiers, 
but  even  by  his  household  servants ;  he  was  forced  to 
remain  helpless  in  his  country-seat,  until  he  was 
dismissed  to  contemptuous  exile  by  the  national 
commissioners.  • 

The  crash  at  Waterloo  had  scattered  the  Bonapartes 
about  the  world  as  exiles.  During  the  reckless  and 
treacherous  6way  of  Louis  XYIII.,  and  the  foolhardy 
reign  of  Charles  X.,  the  liberty,  if  not  the  lives  of  the 
Bonapartes,  and  also  the  wreck  of  their  estates,  de¬ 
pended  on  their  absolute  quietude.  Among  them, 
Queen  Ilortense  left  the  splendors  to  which  she  was 
accustomed,  and  with  her  two  sons  retired  to  Switzer¬ 
land.  Escorted  by  an  Austrian  officer,  the  queen 


118 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


arrived  at  the  eastern  frontier.  “I  quitted,  (said  she,) 
the  territory  of  France,  from  which  the  allied  powers 
expelled  me,  in  haste,  weak  woman  as  I  am,  wdth  my 
two  sons ;  so  much  was  I  feared  by  them,  that  from 
post  to  post  the  enemies’  troops  were  under  arms,  as  it 
was  said,  to  protect  my  safe  passage.”  It  was  thus 
that  the  young  princes  whose  birth  was  welcomed  by 
the  thunder  of  cannon,  and  who  had  grown  up  under 
the  shadow  of  the  greatest  throne  in  the  world,  saw  all 
the  magnificence  of  royalty  depart  from  them.  With 
their  youth,  their  country,  their  family,  and  their  fu¬ 
ture  hopes,  all  seemed  to  disappear  at  once,  and  give 
place  to  exile  and  the  bitter  trials  of  the  world  into 
which  they  were  entering  by  the  gate  of  misfortune. 
Augsburg,  and  afterward  a  house  on  the  shores  of  the 
Lake  Constance,  was  the  asylum  to  which  Queen 
Hortense  retired.  In  this  retreat  she  devoted  herself 
wholly  to  the  education  of  her  sons.  Prince  Louis 
Napoleon  was  admitted  into  the  camp  at  Thun,  in  the 
canton  of  Berne,  which  the  Swiss  assembled  every 
year  for  the  instruction  and  practice  of  engineer  and 
artillery  officers,  under  the  direction  of  Napoleon’s 
skillful  officers.  This  instruction  consisted  not  merely 
in  communicating  information  on  the  science,  but  in 
actual  maneuvers  and  expeditions  among  the  glaciers, 
in  which  the  young  prince,  with  his  knapsack  on  his 
back,  took  part,  partaking  of  the  bread  of  the  common 
soldier,  and  with  his  pick  and  compass  in  his  hand. 
“  My  son,”  says  Queen  Hortense,  in  one  of  her  letters, 
“  is  still  with  the  pupils  at  Thun,  engaged  in  making 
military  reconaissances  in  the  mountains.  They  go 
on  foot  ten  or  twelve  leagues  a  day,  and  by  night 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 


119 


sleep  under  a  tent  at  the  foot  of  the  glaciers.”  Re¬ 
ceiving  such  a  mixed  general  and  military  education 
as  was  supposed  to  be  suitable  for  young  men  in  their 
circumstances,  the  two  sons  of  Queen  Hortense  at¬ 
tained  the  age  of  early  manhood.  Naturally  a  rest¬ 
less,  hair-brained  character,  no  member  of  the  dis¬ 
persed  Bonaparte  family  seems  to  have  retained  in 
exile  such  a  concentrated  amount  of  the  Emperor’s 
spirit  as  young  Louis  Napoleon.  From  his  earliest 
years  he  seems  to  have  realized  his  position  as  a  Bo¬ 
naparte,  and  always  entertained  a  conviction  that  he 
would  ultimately  occupy  a  position  in  Europe  commen¬ 
surate  with  the  dignity  of  his  birth.  Even  before  the 
death  of  the  Emperor’s  son,  (who,  with  the  title  of  Duke 
of  Keichstadt,  \\,as  a  virtual  prisoner  in  Austria,)  or  of 
his  own  elder  brother,  Louis  Napoleon  was  altogether 
their  superior  in  every  thing  that  concerned  the  active 
assertion  of  the  family  claims  ;  and  after  their  death, 
precedence  was  converted  into  a  sense  of  actual  right. 
By  the  terms  of  the  decree  concerning  the  succession, 
he  then  assumed  the  first  place  in  the  second  genera¬ 
tion  of  Bonapartes  —  the  lawful  heir  after  his  uncle 
Joseph  and  his  father  Louis,  to  all  that  could  be  re¬ 
covered  of  the  imperial  fortunes.  lie  became  the  de¬ 
clared  imitator  and  executor  of  his  uncle  —  the  ac¬ 
knowledged’  chief  of  the  young  Napoleonidie.  Yet, 
in  many  respects,  he  seemed  little  fitted  for  this  post 
of  honor.  In  person,  he  was  the  least  like  the  Em¬ 
peror  of  all  the  surviving  Bonapartes ;  the  Beauhar- 
nais  features  of  his  mother  predominating  in  his 
heavy,  somber  countenance,  over  whatever  of  the 


120 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


Napoleonic  lie  may  have  derived  from  his  father.  But 
his  courage,  self-confidence,  and  audacity,  with  a  sol¬ 
dierly  good-nature  and  kindly  susceptibility,  rendered 
him  quite  popular  among  the  people  of  the  free  valleys 
of  Switzerland,  his  adopted  country. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  REIGN  OF  LOUIS  PHILIPPE 

Tiie  last  of  the  memorable  “ three  days”  of  July, 
1830,  dawned  upon  Paris.  The  night  before,  prince 
Polignac  had  been  congratulated  on  having  defeated 
the  insurgents.  Charles  X.  felt  so  secure  that  he  spent 
a  part  of  the  evening  playing  whist.  “The  Parisians, 
(said  lie,)  are  in  a  state  of  anarchy ;  anarchy  will  ne¬ 
cessarily  bring  them  to  my  feet.”  But  on  the  morning 
of  "Wednesday,  the  30th,  the  streets  were  filled  with 
people.  Instead  of  the  unarmed  mobs,  which  had  fled 
before  the  dragoons  the  preceding  day,  there  now  ap¬ 
peared  throngs  of  well-armed  citizens,  marshaled  here 
and  there  in  military  array  under  active  leaders, 
either  veteran  generals  of  the  old  revolutionary  armies, 
or  enthusiastic  students  from  the  military  schools. 
From  the  venerable  towers  of  Xdtre  Dame  the  tri-col¬ 
ored  flag  of  the  Revolution  was. seen  floating  in  the 
breeze.  The  tri-colored  cockade,  the  pledge  of  resist¬ 
ance  unto  death,  was  upon  every  hat.  The  melan¬ 
choly  peal  of  the  alarm-bells  and  the  martial  drum 
collected  the  populace  in  innumerable  rendezvous  for 
war.  Anxiety  and  stern  defiance  sat  on  every  coun¬ 
tenance.  Paris  was  a  camp  —  a  battle-field.  The  king 
had  in  Paris  and  its  immediate  vicinity,  eighteen  thou¬ 
sand  troops,  veterans  in  war.  To  meet  these  in  deadly 
6 


122 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


conflict  was  no  child’s  play.  As  soon  as  the  morning 
light  was  spread  over  the  city,  the  sound  of  the 
trumpet  and  martial  drum  was  heard,  as  the  regiments 
of  the  ting,  in  solid  phalanx,  marched  from  their  head¬ 
quarters  at  the  Tuileries,  with  infantry,  and  artillery,, 
and  cavalry,  to  sweep  the  streets  of  the  insurgent  city. 
Then  ensued  scenes  of  murderous  strife,  such  as  have 
seldom  been  exceeded  in  any  conflict.  The  demon  of 
war  rioted  in  every  street  of  the  city.  Heavy  can¬ 
non  mowed  down  the  opposing  multitude  with  ball 
and  grape-shot.  Bomb-shells  demolished  the  houses 
which  afforded  a  covert  to  the  assailing  people.  Well- 
mounted  troops,  armed  to  the  teeth,  drove  their  bullets 
into  every  eye  that  peeped  from  a  window,  and  into 
every  hand  that  appeared  from  a  turret. 

It  is  not  easy  to  imagine  the  havoc  that  must  be 
produced  by  the  balls  from  heavy  artillery  bounding 
over  the  pavements  of  a  crowded  city,  and  tearing 
their  destructive  way  through  parlors  and  chambers, 
where  affrighted  mothers  and  babes  were  clustered 
together.  One  lady  had  retired  in  terror  to  her  cham¬ 
ber  and  her  bed,  when  a  cannon-ball  pierced  the 
house,  passed  through  the  bed  and  through  her  body, 
and,  scattering  her  mangled  remains  over  the  room, 
continued  unimpeded  on  its  way  of  destruction  and 
carnage. 

A  female,  as  she  observed  the  awful  slaughter  which 
one  of  the  king’s  cannon  produced  as  it  mowed  down 
the  crowds  in  the  streets,  rushed  to  the  cannon,  pressed 
her  bosom  to  its  mouth,  and,  clasping  it  with  her  arms, 
entreated  the  officer  in  command  to  desist.  The  sol¬ 
diers  endeavored  to  pull  her  away.  But  with  frantic 


THE  PEOPLE. 


123 


strength  she  clung  to  the  gun,  declaring  that,  if  they 
would  continue  their  slaughter,  they  should  fire  through 
her  body.  The  officer  commanded  the  torch  to  be  ap¬ 
plied.  The  gunner  shrank  from  the  horrible  deed. 
“  Fire !  ”  shouted  the  officer,  “  or  I  will  thrust  my  sword 
through  your  body.”  The  torch  was  applied,  and 
instantly  the  remains  of  this  heroic  woman  were 
scattered  in  fragments  through  the  air. 

The  tumult  was  increasing.  The  conflict  became 
more  bloody  and  determined.  The  streets  were  every¬ 
where  obstructed  by  barricades,  and  from  the  roofs 
and  windows  of  the  houses,  a  shower  of  tiles,  paving 
stones,  broken  bottles,  and  even  articles  of  furniture 
rained  on  the  heads  of  the  unfortunate  soldiery.  Mar- 
mont,  who  had  been  appointed  to  the  command  of  the 
troops,  by  Charles  X.,  was  in  a  painful  situation  —  his 
duty  as  a  soldier  required  of  him  what  was  contrary  to 
his  inclination  as  a  man.  To  a  deputation  of  citizens 
who  waited  on  him,  he  expressed  his  determination  to 
execute  his  orders.  He  said  that  the  only  way  to  stop 
the  effusion  of  blood  was  for  the  people  of  Paris  to  re¬ 
turn  to  obedience.  The  deputation  replied  that  there 
could  be  no  peace  while  Charles  X.  adhered  to  his 
tyrannical  views  —  no  obedience  to  a  king  who  tram¬ 
pled  on  the  rights  of  the  people.  Marmont  sent  a 
message  to  the  king,  informing  him  of  the  interview 
with  the  deputation,  and  of  the  state  of  affairs.  The 
king  was  at  St.  Cloud,  a  short  distance  from  Paris,  en¬ 
gaged  in  the  chase.  The  only  reply  he  made  to  the 
messenger  from  Marmont  was,  a  command  to  fight  on. 
The  infatuated  monarch  and  his  court  seemed  to  have 
no  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  danger,  and  although- 


124 


LOUIS  N APOLLON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


they  could  hear  the  cannon  roaring  in  the  streets  of 
Paris,  and  knew  that  the  people  were  in  deadly  con¬ 
flict  with  the  soldiery,  Charles  X.  sat  down  composedly 
to  a  game  of  whist. 

All  was  confusion  in  Paris.  It  was  not  known  in 
one  quarter  what  was  doing  in  another;  there  was 
nobody  to  direct  the  insurrection  ;  no  union,  no  au¬ 
thority.  It  was  a  moment  of  anarchy ;  for  the  royal 
power  was  resisted,  and  no  new  one  had  yet  arisen. 
Put  it  is  the  nature  of  society  to  struggle  for  order 
even  in  the  midst  of  discord.  Some  persons  announced 
in  a  placard,  which  was  posted  in  several  parts  of  the 
city,  that  a  provisional  government  had  been  formed, 
at  the  head  of  which  was  General  Lafayette.  The 
falsehood  was  soon  discovered  ;  but  it  helped  to  sus¬ 
tain  the  courage  of  the  combatants:  it  showed  what 
people  were  thinking  about. 

The  falsehood  of  one  day  became  a  verity  on  the 
next.  On  the  31st  of  July,  a  proclamation  was  ad¬ 
dressed  to  the  Parisians,  which  began  with  this  decla¬ 
ration —  “Inhabitants  of  Paris!  Charles  X.  has  ceased 
to  reign!”  It  announced  the  formation  of  a  provi¬ 
sional  government.  Neither  Lafayette  nor  the  persons 
temporarily  intrusted  with  authority,  were  prepared  to 
proclaim  a  republic.  They  were  uncertain  what  course 
to  pursue.  While  they  hesitated,  Charles  X.  might 
take  advantage  of  the  circumstance  and  regain  his 
authority.  Affairs  were  in  a  critical  state.  It  was 
finally  determined  to  invite  the  Duke  of  Orleans  to 
the  head  of  the  nation,  with  the  title  of  Lieutenant 
General.  A  deputation  was  sent  to  him  for  that  pur¬ 
pose.  He  hesitated,  or  appeared  to  hesitate.  He  asked 


EXILE  OF  CHARLES  X. 


125 


for  a  brief  period  to  deliberate,  and  sent  to  consult 
Talleyrand,  whose  answer  was — “Let  him  accept,” 
and  the  duke  accepted.  A  proclamation  was  imme¬ 
diately  published  in  the  name  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans, 
in  which  he  announced  to  the  Parisians,  that  having 
complied  with  the  wishes  of  the  representatives  of  the 
people,  in  accepting  power,  his  first  act  would  be  to 
assemble  the  chambers  to  consult  about  the  means  of 
securing  the  observance  of  law  and  the  maintenance 
of  the  rights  of  the  nation.  The  deputies  immediately 
issued  a  proclamation  to  the  French  people,  announ¬ 
cing  that  France  was  free!  that  absolute  power  had 
endeavored  to  raise  its  standard,  but  that  the  heroic 
population  of  Paris  had  dashed  it  to  the  ground. 

In  the  mean  time  Charles  X.  was  on  his  way  to 
exile.  On  the  30th  of  July,  it  was  known  at  St.  Cloud 
that  the  king’s  authority  no  longer  existed,  and  the 
people  who  were  about  him  dropped  off  rapidly,  and 
he  was  left  almost  alone.  lie  left  St.  Cloud  at  the 
head  of  a  few  followers,  and  started  toward  the  sea- 
coast  ;  but  he  lingered  on  the  way,  hoping  to  hear  that 
his  grandson,  in  whose  favor  he  wrote  a  formal  act  of 
abdication,  would  be'  accepted  as  king  of  France.  It 
was  two  weeks  before  he  left  the  soil  of  France.  No 
one  showed  him  any  personal  disrespect,  but  he  could 
not  but  perceive  that  his  expulsion  from  the  kingdom 
gave  almost  universal  satisfaction. 

In  determining  the  character  of  the  new  govern¬ 
ment,  all  looked  to  the  venerable  Lafayette.  He  pos¬ 
sessed  immense  influence,  and  his  advice  was  decisive. 
He  feared  that  France  was  not  prepared  to  become  a 
republic.  lie  believed  that  a  monarchy  was  necessary 


120 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  II IS  TIMES. 


to  protect  the  country  from  anarchy.  He  considered 
the  elevation  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  to  the  vacant 
throne,  with  the  concession  of  important  rights  to  the 
people,  to  be  the  surest  guarantee  of  the  public  safety. 
“France  needs  a  throne  surrounded  by  republican  in¬ 
stitutions,”  said  he.  Accordingly  the  Duke  of  Orleans 
was,  on  the  9th  of  August,  invited  to  become  King  of 
the  French,  lie  gave  his  acceptance  in  these  terms : 
“I  have  read  with  great  attention  the  declaration  of 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies  and  the  act  of  adhesion  of 
the  Chamber  of  Peers.  I  have  weighed  and  medi¬ 
tated  every  expression  therein.  I  accept,  without  re¬ 
striction  or  reservation,  the  clauses  and  engagements 
contained  in  that  declaration,  and  the  title  of  the  King 
of  the  French  which  it  confers  on  me,  and  am  ready 
to  make  oath  to  observe  the  same.”  He  then  rose,  took 
oft'  his  glove,  uncovered  his  head,  and  pronounced  the 
following  oath:  “In  the  presence  of  God,  I  swear 
faithfully  to  observe  the  constitutional  charter,  with 
the  modifications  set  forth  in  the  declaration  ;  to  gov¬ 
ern  only  by  the  laws  ;  to  cause  good  and  exact  justice 
to  be  administered  to  every  one  according  to  his  right; 
and  to  act  in  every  thing  with  the  sole  view  to  the 
interest,  the  welfare,  and  the  glory  of  the  French  na¬ 
tion.”  He  then  appeared  on  the  balcony  before  tire 
masses  of  the  people,  accompanied  by  Lafayette,  into 
whose  arms  he  threw  himself  “  as  into  the  arms  of  the 
nation  personified.”  The  veteran  of  revolutions,  point¬ 
ing  to  the  new  king,  exclaimed  —  “This  is  the  prince 
whom  we  wanted  :  it  is  the  best  of  republics  !”  And 
so  the  Duke  of  Orleans  ascended  the  throne  as  Louis 
Philippe  I.,  King  of  the  French. 


LOUIS  PIIILirPE. 


127 


Louis  Philippe  of  Orleans,  Duke  of  Yalois  at  his 
birth,  Duke  of  Chartres  on  the  death  of  his  grand¬ 
father,  (1785,)  Duke  of  Orleans  on  the  death  of  his 
father,  (1794,)  and  King  of  the  French  in  1S30,  was  born 
October  6,  1773.  He  was  one  of  live  children.  His 
brothers  were  the  Duke  of  Montpensier,  born  in  1775, 
and  the  Count  of  Beaujolais,  born  in  1779  ;  his  sisters 
were  Marie  Caroline,  who  died  in  infancy,  and  Eu¬ 
genie  Adelaide,  her  twin  sister.  His  father  was  Louis 
Philippe  Joseph,  Duke  of  Orleans,  better  known  under 
his  revolutionary  title  of  Philip  Egalite.  The  Orleans 
branch  of  the  Bourbon  family,  originated  in  a  younger 
son  of  Louis  XIII.,  created  Duke  of  Orleans  by  his 
older  brother  Louis  XVI.,  and  of  whom  Louis  Philippe 
was  the  grandson’s  great-grandson. 

Whatever  were  the  personal  and  political  faults  of 
citizen  Egalite,  he  was  a  kind  father,  and  beloved  by 
his  children.  Desirous  of  imparting  to  his  family  a 
sound  education,  in  which  he  himself  had  had  the 
misfortune  to  be  deficient,  he  committed  them  to  the 
superintendence  of  his  mistress,  Madame  de  Sillery  — 
better  known  by  her  later  acquired  title  of  Countess  de 
Genlis.  Notwithstanding  the  errors  of  this  lady,  she 
was  eminently  qualified,  by  her  talents  and  disposi¬ 
tions,  to  be  an  instructress  of  youth.  She  appears  to 
have  endeavored  to  make  up  for  her  own  misconduct 
by  a  scrupulous  regard  to  the  manners  and  morals  of 
her  pupils.  The  principles  on  which  she  based  her 
plans  of  education  were  considerably  in  advance  of  the 
age,  and  such  as  are  only  now  beginning  to  be  gener¬ 
ally  understood.  She  considered  that  it  was  of  the 
first  importance  to  surround  children,  almost  from 


128 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


their  cradle,  with  happy  and  cheering  influences,  to  the 
exclusion  of  every  thing  likely  to  contaminate  their 
minds  or  feelings.  It  was  necessary,  above  all  things, 
to  implant  in  them  a  universal  spirit  of  love  —  a  love 
of  God  and  his  works,  the  consciousness  that  all  was 
from  the  hand  of  an  Almighty  Creator  and  Preserver 
who  willed  the  happiness  of  his  creatures.  To  excite 
this  feeling  in  her  young  charge,  she  took  every  oppor¬ 
tunity  of  arousing  the  sentiment  of  wonder  with  respect 
to  natural  phenomena,  and  then  of  explaining  the 
seeming  marvels  on  principles  which  an  awakening 
intelligence  could  be  led  to  comprehend.  The  other 
means  adopted  to  form  the  character  of  her  young 
pupils  —  the  Duke  of  Valois,  Duke  of  Montpensier, 
the.  Count  JBeaujolais,  and  their  sister  the  Princess 
Adelaide  —  were  equally  to  be  admired.  While  re¬ 
ceiving  instructions  in  different  branches  of  polite 
learning,  and  in  the  Christian  doctrines  and  graces, 
from  properly  qualified  tutors,  they  learned,  without 
labor  or  pain,  to  speak  English,  German  and  Italian, 
by  being  attended  by  domestics  who  respectively  con¬ 
versed  in  these  languages.  ISTor  was  their  physical 
education  neglected.  The  boys  were  trained  to  endure 
all  kinds  of  bodily  fatigue,  and  taught  a  variety  of 
useful  and  amusing  industrial  exercises.  At  St.  Leu, 
a  pleasant  country  residence  near  Paris,  where  the 
family  resided  under  the  charge  of  Madame  de  Genlis, 
the  young  princes  cultivated  a  small  garden  under  the 
direction  of  a  German  gardener,  while  they  were  in¬ 
structed  in  botany  and  the  practice  of  medicine  by  a 
medical  gentleman,  who  was  the  companion  of  their 
rambles.  They  had  also  ateliers ,  or  workshops,  in 


YOUTH  OF  LOUIS  PHILIPPE. 


129 


which  they  were  taught  turning,  basket-making,  weav¬ 
ing,  and  carpentry.  The  young  Duke  of  Yalois  took 
pleasure  in  these  pursuits  —  as  what  boy  would  not, 
under  proper  direction,  and  if  allowed  scope  for  his 
ingenuity  ?  lie  excelled  in  cabinet-making  ;  and,  as¬ 
sisted  only  by  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Montpensier, 
made  a  handsome  cupboard,  and  a  table  with  drawers, 
for  a  poor  woman  in  the  village  of  St.  Leu. 

Louis  Philippe  passed  from  the  hands  of  his  senti¬ 
mental,  but  by  no  means  incompetent  or  unskillful 
tutor,  to  step  at  once  into  the  thorny  path  of  active 
life.  At  an  early  age  he  entered  the  army,  and  in 
1785,  inherited  the  colonelcy  of  the  regiment  of  cav¬ 
alry  which  bore  his  name.  In  1791  he  commanded  the 
fortress  of  Yalenciennes.  Ilis  attention  to  military 
duty  had  acquired  for  him  the  respect  of  his  superiors, 
and  was  held  up  as  a  pattern  to  the  service.  Ilis 
ability  to  say  exactly  what  the  occasion  required,  and 
which,  while  king  of  the  French,  so  distinguished  him, 
was  early  developed.  When  he  heard  that  the  right 
of  primogeniture  had  been  abolished,  he  turned  to  his 
younger  brother,  the  Duke  of  Montpensier,  and  em¬ 
bracing  him,  exclaimed  —  “  Ah  !  now  we  are  brothers 
in  every  respect.”  When  an  old  officer  went  to  Yal¬ 
enciennes,  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  new  commandant, 
the  veteran  exclaimed  —  “  Ah  !  Monsieur,  I  have  never 
before  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  so  young  a  general 
officer  ;  how  have  you  contrived  to  be  made  a  general 
so  soon  ?  ”  Louis  Philippe  replied  —  “  By  being  a  son 
of  him  who  made  a  colonel  of  you.”  •  The  veteran 
laughed,  shook  hands,  and  they  became  friends  at  once. 

While  Louis  Philippe,  now  Duke  of  Chartres,  was  in 
6* 


130 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  HTS  TIMES. 


arms  against  the  armies  which  menaced  the  tottering 
fabric  of  the  French  monarchy,  the  Resolution  was 
hastening  to  its  crisis.  Monarchy  being  extinguished, 
and  the  king  and  his  family  placed  in  confinement,  a 
decree  of  banishment  was  hastily  passed  against  all 
other  members  of  the  Bourbon  race.  The  Duke  of 
Chartres  earnestly  besought  his  father  to  take  advan¬ 
tage  of  the  decree  of  banishment,  and  with  his  family 
seek  a  retreat  in  a  foreign  country.  “  You  will  assur¬ 
edly,  (said  he,  addressing  the  Duke  of  Orleans,)  find 
yourself  in  an  appalling  situation.  Louis  XYI.  is 
about  to  be  accused  before  an  assembly  of  which  you 
are  a  member.  You  must  sit  before  the  king  as  his 
judge.  Reject  the  ungracious  duty,  withdraw  with 
your  family  to  America,  and  seek  a  calm  retreat  far 
from  the  enemies  of  France,  and  there  await  the  return 
of  happier  days.”  To  these  persuasives  the  Duke  of 
Orleans  lent  a  deaf  ear ;  he  either  considered  it  to  be 
inconsistent  Avith  his  honor  and  his  duty  to  desert  his 
post  at  the  approach  of  danger ;  or,  what  is  as  prob¬ 
able,  he  expected  that  by  a  turn  of  affairs  he  might  be 
elevated  to  the  first  place  of  the  nation,  whatever 
should  be  its  form  of  government.  Nevertheless, 
moved  by  the  entreaties  of  his  son,  Orleans  desired 
him  to  consult  an  influential  member  of  the  Assembly 
on  the  subject,  and  let  him  know  the  result.  The 
deputy,  however,  declined  to  express  his  opinion.  “I 
am  incompetent,”  said  he,  “  to  give  your  father  any 
advice.  Our  positions  are  dissimilar.  I  myself  seek 
redress  for  personal  injuries  ;  your  father,  the  Duke  of 
Orleans,  ought  to  obey  the  dictates  of  his  conscience  as 
a  prince — of  his  duties  as  a  citizen.”  The  undecided 


EXECUTION  OF  LOUIS  PHILIPPE ’s  FATHER.  131 

answer  neither  influenced  the  judgment  of  the  Duke  of 
Orleans,  nor  corroborated  the  arguments  of  his  son. 
Impressed  to  the  fullest  extent  with  the  duties  of  a  citi¬ 
zen,  he  felt  that  he  could  not  honorably  recede  ;  and 
that  a  man,  whatever  his  rank  might  be,  who  inten¬ 
tionally  abandoned  his  country,  was  deserving  of  the 
penalties  reserved  for  traitors.  Perceiving  that  his 
father  made  his  determination  a  point  of  honor — a 
case  of  political  conscientiousness  —  he  desisted  from 
further  solicitation,  embraced  him  for  the  last  time, 
and  returned  to  the  army. 

Events  now  rapidly  followed  each  other.  On  the 
21st  of  January,  1793,  Louis  XVI.  was  carried  to  the 
scaffold,  and  a  few  months  thereafter,  the  Duke  of  Or¬ 
leans  was  seized  on  the  charge  of  conspiring  against  the 
nation.  On  the  Gth  of  November,  he  was  brought  be¬ 
fore  the  revolutionary  tribunal,  and,  after  a  mock  trial, 
condemned  to  death  on  a  series  of  charges,  of  all  which 
he  was  notoriously  guiltless.  Viewing  the  proceedings 
of  his  judges  with  contempt,  he  begged,  as  an  only  fa¬ 
vor,  that  the  sentence  might  be  executed  without  delay. 
The  indulgence  was  granted,  and  he  was  led,  at  four 
o’clock,  when  the  daylight  was  about  failing,  from  the 
court  to  the  guillotine.  The  courage  of  this  intrepid 
man  faltered  not  at  the  place  of  execution.  When  the 
executioner  took  off  his  coat,  he  calmly  observed  to  the 
assistants  who  were  going  to  draw  oft'  his  boots,  “  It  is 
only  loss  of  time  ;  you  will  remove  them  more  easily 
from  the  lifeless  limbs.”  In  a  few  minutes  he  was  no 
more. 

Seven  months  previous  to  the  death  of  his  father,  the 
Duke  of  Chartres,  along  with  his  friend  General 


132 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  III3  TIMES. 


Dumouriez,  became  assured  that  the  cause  of  moderation 
was  lost,  and  looked  with  apprehension  on  the  Reign 
of  Terror  which  had  already  begun  to  manifest  itself. 
There  was  little  time  for  deliberation  as  to  their  course. 
Being  summoned  to  appear  before  the  Committee  of 
Public  Safety,  and  knowing  that  citations  of  this  nature 
were  for  the  most  part  equivalent  to  condemnation, 
both  instantly  fled  toward  the  French  frontier.  The 
fugitives  were  hotly  pursued,  but  were  fortunate  in 
making  their  escape  into  the  Belgian  Netherlands,  at 
that  time  belonging  to  Austria. 

The  next  six  or  seven  years  of  his  life  ivas  a  period 
of  great  hardship  and  obscurity.  Hated  by  the  royal¬ 
ists  for  refusing  to  serve  with  the  Austrians,  and  for 
his  father’s  conduct  during  the  Revolution,  he  was  re¬ 
lentlessly  pursued  by  the  republican  government ;  in 
addition  to  which,  he  was  suffering  from  narrow 
means.  Traveling  incognito  through  the  Low  Coun- 
tries,  he  joined  his  sister  in  Switzerland,  and  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  Zurich.  Having  been  recognized,  the  party 
were  obliged  to  quit  the  city,  on  account  of  the  fears 
of  magistrates  and  the  excitement  of  the  emigrants. 
The  exiles  next  took  up  their  abode  in  a  small  house 
near  Zug;  but  the  duke  was  once  more  identified  by 
some  emigrants  passing  through  the  town,  and  the 
authorities  of  Berne  compelled  his  removal.  His  sister 
procured  admission  into  a  convent ;  the  duke  took 
leave  of  the  few  friends  who  had  hitherto  accom¬ 
panied  his  fortunes,  sold  his  horses  to  raise  money, 
and,  attended  by  a  faithful  servant  who  refused  to 
leave  him,  traversed  Switzerland  on  foot,  knapsack  on 
back.  Master  °nd  servant  reached  11 


LOUIS  PIIILIPPE  A  TEACHER. 


133 


monastery  of  St.  Gothard,  tired  and  footsore ;  the 
Prince  rang  the  bell,  and  craved  refreshment.  ‘‘There 
is  no  admittance  here  for  travelers  on  foot,”  was  the 
reply  ;  “certainly  not  for  men  of  your  appearance. 
Yonder  is  the  house  for  you,”  and  the  monk  pointed 
with  his  finger  to  a  shed  in  which  some  muleteers 
were  eating  cheese,  and  slammed  the  door  in  the 
Prince’s  face.  At  Gordona,  on  another  occasion,  du¬ 
ring  a  bitter  night,  Louis  Philippe  presented  himself 
at  a  farm-house,  without  luggage,  and  in  somewhat 
damaged  attire.  lie  asked  hospitality,  and,  after 
much  demurring,  he  was  allowed  to  have  a  bed  of 
straw  in  a  barn.  The  future  king  slept  soundly  until 
the  break  of  day,  when  he  awoke  to  find  a  young  man 
armed  with  a  gun  pacing  the  floor  as  sentinel.  The 
appearance  of  the  traveler  had  excited  suspicion  in 
the  house,  and  orders  had  been  given  to  shoot  him  if 
he  attempted  mischief. 

It  was  while  pursuing  this  somewhat  ignoble  course 
of  life,  that  a  plan  was  suggested  to  the  young  duke 
which  promised  immediate  if  not  lasting  relief  from 
his  great  embarrassment.  A  gentleman  named  Cha- 
bot-Latour  had  been  invited  from  Paris  to  take  a  pro¬ 
fessorship  in  the  college  of  Keichenau.  M.  Chabot- 
Latour  failed  to  keep  his  engagement,  and,  by  the 
contrivance  of  the  Prince’s  friends,  it  was  arranged 
that  the  Duke  of  Chartres  should  appear  in  the  name 
and  place  of  the  absent  candidate.  The  Prince  ac¬ 
cordingly  presented  himself  for  examination,  and  was 
unanimously  elected,  after  receiving  great  commenda¬ 
tion  for  the  ability  and  knowledge  he  had  evinced 
throughout  the  ordeal.  lie  was  then  twenty-two  years 


134 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


of  age  ;  his  salary  was  about  $275  a-year,  a  larger  sal 
ary  than  was  usual  in  Switzerland  ;  and  for  that  sum  he 
taught  history,  geography,  mathematics,  and  the  Eng¬ 
lish  language.  For  the  space  of  one  year  during  which 
he  held  the  professorship,  none  but  the  director  of 
the  institution  was  aware  of  the  teacher’s  rank.  Louis 
Philippe  was  quietly  instructing  the  youth  of  Rieche- 
nau,  when  he  received  news  of  his  father’s  melancholy 
death,  and  of  his  own  accession  to  an  empty,  blood¬ 
stained  title.  lie  threw  up  his  appointment  at  once, 
and  in  June,  1794,  retired  to  Bremgarten.  He  carried 
*  along  with  him  an  honorable  testimony  of  the  services 
he  had  rendered  to  the  academy,  and  was  justly  proud 
of  the  document  when  he  afterward  sat  upon  the  throne 
of  France,  reputed  the  wisest  monarch  of  his  time. 

Melancholy,  and  weary  of  his  fate,  the  exile  pined  to 
quit  Europe,  and  in  a  new  world  “  to  forget  the  great¬ 
ness  and  the  sufferings  which  had  been  the  compan¬ 
ions  of  his  youth.”  But  he  was  literally  without  a  far¬ 
thing.  A  friend  wrote  on  his  behalf  to  Robert  Morris, 
who  had  been  embassador  to  France  from  the  United 
States.  He  had  been  acquainted  with  Egalite,  and  was 
then  at  Hamburgh,  about  to  return  to  his  native 
country.  Mr.  Morris  answered  the  application  with 
promptitude  and  kindness.  He  offered  the  Prince  a 
free  passage  to  America,  his  services  when  the  exile 
should  arrive  there,  and,  at  the-  same  time,  he  trans¬ 
mitted  an  order  for  $500  to  defray  the  expenses  of 
the  journey  to  Hamburgh.  The  Prince  accepted 
Mr.  Morris’s  friendship  in  the  spirit  in  which  it  was 
offered.  “I  am  quite  disposed  to  labor  in  order  to 
make  myself  independent,”  he  wrote  to  his  benefactor: 


LOUIS  PHILIPPE  TRAVELING  ON  FOOT. 


135 


“  I  scarcely  entered  upon  life  when  the  greatest  misfor¬ 
tunes  assailed  me  ;  but,  thank  God,  they  have  not  dis¬ 
couraged  me.  I  feel  a  great  happiness  in  my  re¬ 
verses  that  my  youth  has  not  given  me  time  to  attach 
myself  too  much  to  my  position,  or  to  contract  habits 
of  life  difficult  to  be  broken,  and  that  I  have  been  de¬ 
prived  of  my  fortune  before  I  was  able  to  abuse  or 
even  use  it.”  It  was  well  and  royally  said.  But  how 
much  clearer  the  intellectual  vision  of  the  youth  than 
the  maturer  eyesight  of  the  man  !  On  the  10th  of 
March,  1795,  Louis  Philippe  quitted  Bremgarten  and 
reached  Hamburgh  at  the  end  of  the  month. 

At  Hamburgh  the  Prince  missed  his  friend,  who 
was  then  employed  upon  a  diplomatic  mission  in  Ger¬ 
many.  Some  months  must  elapse  before  Mr.  Morris 
could  return  to  Hamburgh,  and  the  young  adventurer 
resolved  to  employ  the  interval  in  exploring  Northern 
Europe.  The  undertaking  half  a  century  ago  was 
associated  with  difficulties  unknown  to  the  traveler  of 
to-day.  He  visited  the  duchies  of  Holstein  and  Schles¬ 
wig,  the  island  of  Zealand,  Copenhagen,  and  Elsinore, 
and  in  every  place  exhibited  an  honest  zeal  for  infor¬ 
mation,  that  put  suspicion  to  sleep.  From  Denmark  he 
crossed  to  Sweden,  and  thence  passed  into  Norway, 
making  excursions,  that  were  remembered  long  after¬ 
ward,  to  the  iron  and  copper  mines  of  that  country. 
The  northward  journey  did  not  end  even  here.  The 
traveler  was  not  content  until  he  had  seen  the  wonders 
of  the  Maelstrom,  and  had  advanced  some  degrees 
beyond  the  Arctic  Circle.  Returning  southward,  the 
Prince  traversed  on  foot  the  desert  which  separates 
the  Northern  Ocean  from  the  river  Tornea.  Fifteen 


136 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


days  were  occupied  in  the  journey,  during  which  time 
no  other  nourishment  could  he  procured  than  the  milk 
and  flesh  of  the  reindeer.  It  must  he  acknowledged 
that  Louis  Philippe  was  now  turning  the  misfortunes 
of  his  family  to  the  most  profitable  account.  By 
bringing  himself  into  contact  with  every  variety  of 
life,  and  adding  the  treasures  of  personal  observation 
to  the  stores  of  learning  with  which  his  mind  was 
fraught,  he  was  preparing  himself  for  that  course  of 
events  which  afterward  gave  him  a  powerful  influence 
over  the  destinies  of  his  country  and  of  Europe.  The 
bold  and  rugged  scenery  of  these  arctic  regions,  and 
the  simple  and  unpretending  kindness  of  the  inhab¬ 
itants,  must  have  produced  a  vivid  impression  upon  a 
young  man  of  his  rank  and  previous  pursuits,  sent 
forth  under  such  circumstances  to  commence  his  novi¬ 
tiate  in  the  world.  Picking  up  knowledge,  and  enlarg¬ 
ing  the  range  of  his  acquirements  at  every  step,  the 
youth  returned  to  Fredericstadt,  in  Holstein,  at  which 
town  he  received  the  gratifying  intelligence  that  the 
executive  directory  of  France  were  prepared  to  grant 
liberty  to  his  brothers,  who  had  been  kept  close  pris¬ 
oners  since  their  father’s  death,  upon  condition  that  the 
Duke  of  Orleans  with  them  would  consent  to  banish¬ 
ment  from  Europe.  The  consent  was  given  as  soon  as 
asked,  and  on  the  24th  of  October,  1796,  Louis  Phil¬ 
ippe  landed  in  Philadelphia ;  it  was  not  until  the  7th 
of  February  following,  that,  after  a  cruel  and  protracted 
absence,  the  brothers  met  in  the  same  city,  and  found 
in  their  restoration  to  one  another,  some  consolation  for 
the  sufferings  long  endured  by  all.  Among  their  first 
visits  was  one  to  Gen.  Washington  at  Mount  Vernon, 


LOUIS  PIIILiri’E  IN  AMERICA. 


137 


who  proposed  for  the  exiled  princes  an  itinerary  jour¬ 
ney  to  the  western  country,  and  furnished  them  with 
some  letters  of  introduction  for  persons  upon  the  route. 
They  made  the  necessary  preparations  for  a  long  tour, 
which  they  performed  on  horseback,  each  of  them 
carrying  in  a  pair  of  saddle-bags,  after  the  fashion  of 
that  period,  whatever  he  might  require  in  clothes  or 
other  articles  for  his  personal  comfort.  The  traveling- 
map  of  the  three  princes  is  still  preserved,  and  fur¬ 
nishes  convincing  proof  that  it  has  passed  through 
severe  service.  The  various  routes  followed  by  the 
travelers  are  strongly  depicted  in  red  ink  ;  and  by  their 
extent  and  direction  they  show  the  great  enterprise 
displayed  by  three  young  strangers  to  acquire  a  just 
knowledge  of  the  country,  at  a  time  when  the  difficul¬ 
ties  of  traveling  over  a  great  part  of  the  route  were 
enough  to  discourage  many  a  hardy  American.  Louis 
Philippe,  in  afterward  showing  this  map  to  an 
American  gentleman,  mentioned  that  he  possessed  an 
accurate  account,  showing  the  expenditure  of  every 
dollar  he  disbursed  in  the  United  States!  It  is  an 
example  of  business  habits  worthy  of  all  praise  and 
imitation.  This  attention  to  the  important  concern  of 
personal  expenditure  was  one  of  the  characteristic 
features  of  Washington  ;  and  both  of  these  celebrated 
men  were,  no  doubt,  penetrated  with  the  conviction 
that  exactitude  is  essential  to  success. 

At  the  period  in  which  the  journey  of  the  princes 
was  performed,  the  back  settlements  of-  the  United 
States  were  in  a  comparatively  rude  condition,  and 
could  not  be  traversed  without  undergoing  many  hard¬ 
ships.  From  Washington  they  w-ent  to  Nashville, 


138 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  UIS  TIMES. 


Louisville,  Wheeling,  Pittsburg  and  Niagara  Falls. 
At  Bairdstown  the  party  were  detained  by  the  illness 
of  Duke  Beaujolais.  Forty  years  afterward,  when 
Louis  Philippe  was  king  of  France,  he  sent  to  Bairds¬ 
town  a  handsome  clock  as  a  memorial  of  the  kindness 
with  which  he  was  entertained  there.  In  their  journey 
from  Erie  to  Buffalo,  they  met  a  band  of  Seneca  In¬ 
dians,  to  whom  they  were  indebted  for  a  night’s  hospi¬ 
tality.  The  chief  assured  the  travelers  that  he  would 
be  personally  responsible  for  every  article  they  might 
intrust  to  his  care ;  but  that  he  would  not  answer  for 
his  people  unless  this  precaution  was  used.  Accord¬ 
ing!  y,  every  thing  was  deposited  with  the  chief — sad¬ 
dles,  bridles,  blankets,  clothes  and  money;  all  which 
being  faithfully  produced  in  the  morning,  the  day’s 
journey  was  commenced.  But  the  party  had  not  pro¬ 
ceeded  far  upon  the  route,  when  they  missed  a  favorite 
dog,  which  they  had  not  supposed  to  be  included  in 
the  list  of  contraband  articles  requiring  a  deposit  in 
this  aboriginal  custom-house,  and  had  therefore  left  it 
at  liberty.  He  was  a  singularly  beautiful  animal,  and 
having  been  the  companion  in  imprisonment  of  the 
two  younger  brothers,  at  the  castle  of  St.  Jean,  they 
were  much  attached  to  him.  The  Duke  immediately 
returned  to  seek  and  reclaim  the  dog ;  and  the  chief, 
without  the  slightest  embarrassment,  said  to  him,  in 
answer  to  his  representations, — “If  you  had  intrusted 
the  dog  to  me  last  night,  he  would  have  been  ready  for 
you  this  morning ;  but  we  will  find  him.”  And  he  im¬ 
mediately  went  to  a  kind  of  closet,  shut  in  by  a  board, 
and  on  removing  this,  the  faithful  animal  leaped  out 
upon  his  masters. 


LOUIS  PHILIPPIC  IN  LOVE. 


13D 


Scarcely  resting  at  Buffalo,  they  crossed  to  Fort  Erie 
on  the  British  side,  and  then  repaired  to  the  Falls  of 
Niagara.  This  grand  natural  object,  as  may  be  sup¬ 
posed,  engaged  the  careful  examination  of  the  princes, 
and  one  of  them,  the  Duke  of  Montpensier,  who  ex¬ 
celled  in  drawing,  made  a  sketcli  of  the  cataract  for 
his  sister.  The  party  then  proceeded  to  Canandaigua, 
through  a  country  almost  in  a  state  of  nature.  Con¬ 
tinuing  their  route  to  Geneva,  they  procured  a  boat, 
and  embarked  upon  the  Seneca  Lake,  which  they 
ascended  to  its  head  ;  and  from  thence  they  made  their 
way  to  Tioga  Point,  upon  the  Susqueliannah  —  each 
of  the  travelers  carrying  his  baggage,  for  the  last 
twenty -five  miles,  upon  his  back.  From  Tioga  the 
party  proceeded  to  AVilkesbarre,  and  thence  they 
crossed  the  country  to  Philadelphia.  When  in  that 
city,  Louis  Philippe  became  enamored  of  a  Miss  AY — , 
and  solicited  her  father’s  permission  to  pay  her  his 
addresses,  who  is  said  to  have  replied,  in  substance : 
“  As  a  penniless  exile,  you  are  no  match  for  my  daugh¬ 
ter;  and  as  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal  of  France,  you 
are  far  too  great  a  one.”  It  is  a  curious  coincidence 
that  the  Princess  of  Naples,  whom  Louis  Philippe 
married  some  years  after  he  left  America,  very  strongly 
resembled  Miss  AY — .  Many  years  after,  when  king 
of  France,  he  distinguished  by  his  attentions  two 
young  gentlemen  of  the  AY —  family,  who  visited  Paris 
in  their  travels,  recalling  his  own  sojourn  in  Philadel¬ 
phia  when  a  homeless  stranger.  During  the  residence 
of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  his  brothers  at  Phila¬ 
delphia,  in  1797,  the  city  was  visited  by  that  fatal  epi¬ 
demic,  yellow  fever,  but  from  which  the  unfortunate 


140 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


princes  found  it  impossible  to  fly,  on  account  of  a 
lack  of  funds.  From  this  unpleasant  and  perilous 
dilemma  they  were  happily  relieved  in  the  course  of 
September,  by  a  remittance  from  their  mother.  With 
a  purse  thus  opportunely  reinforced,  they  now  under¬ 
took  another  journey,  which  this  time  led  them  to  the 
eastern  part  of  the  United  States,  finally  arriving  in 
New  York.  Here  the  brothers  learned  that  a  new  law 
had  just  decreed  the  expulsion  of  all  the  members  of 
the  Bourbon  family  yet  remaining  in  France  from  that 
country ;  and  that  their  mother  had  been  deported  to 
Spain.  Their  object  was  now  to  join  her ;  but  owing 
to  their  peculiar  circumstances,  and  to  the  war  between 
England  and  Spain,  this  object  was  not  easily  attained. 
To  avoid  the  French  cruisers  upon  the  coast,  they  de¬ 
termined  to  repair  to  New  Orleans,  and  there  to  find  a 
conveyance  for  Havana,  whence  they  thought  they 
could  reach  the  mother  country.  They  set  out, 
therefore,  for  Pittsburg  in  December,  1797. 

At  Carlisle,  Louis  Philippe  was  thrown  from  his 
•wagon  and  considerably  injured.  In  early  life,  as  we 
have  seen,  he  had  learned  to  perform  the  operation  of 
bleeding.  Immediately  perceiving  that  his  situation 
required  depletion,  and  making  his  way,  as  he  best 
could,  to  the  tavern,  he  requested  permission  of  the 
landlord  to  perform  the  operation  in  his  house,  and  to 
be  furnished  with  linen  and  water.  The  family  was 
kind,  and  supplied  him  with  every  thing  he  required  ; 
and  he  soon  relieved  himself  by  losing  a  quantity  of 
blood.  The  circumstance,  however,  had  attracted 
general  attention,  in  consequence  of  the  accident  to  the 
wagon,  and  of  the  injury  to  the  traveler,  and  still 


LOUIS  PHILirPE  RETURNS  TO  EUROPE. 


141 


more  from  the  extraordinary  occurrence  of  self-bleed¬ 
ing  ;  and  a  large  crowd  had  collected  in  the  tavern  to 
watch  the  result  of  the  operation.  It  is  probable  the 
curious  spectators  thought  he  was  a  Yankee  doctor, 
going  to  the  west  to  establish  himself.  Satisfied 
with  the  surgical  ability  which  the  stranger  had  just 
displayed,  they  proposed  to  him  to  remain  at  Carlisle, 
and  to  commence  there  his  professional  career,  promis¬ 
ing  to  employ  him,  and  assuring  him  that  his  prospect 
of  success  would  be  much  more  favorable  than  in  the 
regions  beyond  the  mountains. 

When  our  party  reached  Pittsburg,  they  found  the 
Monongahela  frozen,  but  the  Alleghany  open.  They 
purchased  a  keel-boat,  then  lying  in  the  ice,  and  with 
much  labor  and  difficulty  transported  it  to  the  point 
where  the  two  rivers  met  and  formed  the  Ohio.  There 
the  party  embarked  on  that  river,  which  they  de¬ 
scended  along  with  three  persons  to  aid  them  in  the 
navigation,  and  arrived  at  New  Orleans  in  February, 
1798. 

From  New  Orleans  they  embarked  on  board  an 
American  vessel  for  Havana.  Upon  their  passage 
they  were  boarded  by  an  English  frigate  under  French 
colors.  Until  the  character  of  the  cruiser  was  ascer¬ 
tained,  the  three  brothers  were  apprehensive  that  they 
might  be  recognized  and  conducted  to  France.  How¬ 
ever,  when  it  was  discovered,  on  one  side,  that  the 
visitor  was  an  English  ship,  and,  on  the  other,  that  the 
three  young  passengers  were  the  princes  of  the  house 
of  Orleans,  confidence  was  restored,  and  the  captain 
hastened  to  receive  them  on  board  his  vessel,  where  he 
treated  them  with  distinction  and  conducted  them  to 


142 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


Havana.  The  devoted  young  men  reached  Cuba,  to  be 
immediately  expelled  from  it  by  the  captain-general  of 
the  island.  Orders  had  been  received  to  deny  them 
hospitality.  In  their  despair,  the  princes  resolved  to 
seek  shelter  in  a  British  colony.  They  proceeded  to 
the  Bahamas,  thence  to  Halifax,  and  finally  set  sail  for 
England.  They  reached  London  in  February,  1800. 
Their  destination,  however,  was  Spain,  not  England. 
They  obtained  a  passage  to  Barcelona,  and  were  within 
hail  of  that  dear  mother  whom  they  had  traveled  so 
far  to  comfort  with  their  presence.  They  were,  never¬ 
theless,  not  permitted  to  land  at  Barcelona  ;  and  the 
poor  lady  was  not  even  told  that  they  had  reached  the 
harbor  on  their  affectionate  pilgrimage.  The  princes 
returned  to  England,  and  took  up  their  residence  at 
Twickenham.  Here  the  exiles  had  at  length  an  oppor¬ 
tunity  of  enjoying  some  repose  in  the  midst  of  the 
best  English  society.  They  were  treated  with  the 
greatest  kindness  by  all  classes,  from  royalty  down¬ 
ward,  and,  by  their  unaffected  manners,  gained  uni¬ 
versal  esteem.  But  neither  the  polite  attentions  of  the 
English  people,  nor  the  splendors  of  London  fashion¬ 
able  life,  could  obliterate  the  recollections  of  their 
mother  from  their  hearts.  After  several  years  of  quiet 
enjoyment,  sorrow  again  visited  Louis  Philippe.  His 
brother,  the  Duke  of  Montpensier,  died  (in  1807)  of 
consumption.  The  funeral  was  scarcely  over  before 
the  Count  of  Beaujolais  was  attacked  with  the  same 
disease,  and  ordered  to  a  warmer  climate.  Louis  Phil¬ 
ippe  accompanied  the  invalid  to  Malta,  and  reached  the 
island  in  time  to  find  a  final  resting  place  for  the  young 
sufferer.  The  Count  of  Beaujolais  died  at  Viletta, 


MARRIAGE  OF  LOUIS  PHILIPPE. 


143 


in  1808.  Fortunately  for  Louis  Philippe  he  was  not 
left  alone  in  the  world.  He  had  still  a  sister.  After 
fifteen  years’  separation,  brother  and  sister  had 
again  met.  Their  meeting  was  most  affecting.  They 
vowed  to  each  other  never  again  to  separate,  and  the 
vow  was  sacredly  kept.  In  company  they  proceeded 
once  more  in  search  of  their  mother.  With  difficulty 
they  managed  to  convey  a  letter  to  her,  fixing  a  ren¬ 
dezvous  at  Minorca,  and  in  September,  1809,  they 
landed  at  that  island,  to  embrace  at  last  the  object  of 
their  long  and  anxious  search.  With  her,  by  invitation 
of  King  Ferdinand  of  Naples,  they  took  up  their 
residence  with  the  royal  family  at  Palermo.  After  a 
brief  interval,  a  marriage  alliance  was  formed  between 
Louis  Philippe  and  the  second  daughter  of  Ferdinand. 
(It  is  curious  that  before  the  downfall  of  the  French 
monarchy,  an  alliance  had  been  contemplated  between 
the  young  Duke  of  Chartres  and  the  daughter  of  Na¬ 
ples,  then  unborn.)  Whatever  doubts  may  arise  about 
the  marriages  of  other  potentates,  there  can  be  little 
question  that  the  union  between  Louis  Philippe  and 
the  princess  Marie  Ainelie  was  a  love-match.  The 
Duke  of  Orleans  was  then  an  exile,  with  an  income 
both  narrow  and  precarious,  and  without  the  remotest 
appearance  of  succeeding  even  to  his  patrimonial  prop¬ 
erty.  The  king  of  Naples  was  shorn  of  the  principal 
half  of  his  dominions.  lie  was  only  supported  in  the 
other  by  the  power  of  Great  Britain  ;  upon  whose 
allowance  he  was  indeed  living,  and  whose  exertions 
the  folly  of  the  court  was  doing  its  best  to  neutralize. 
Worldly  objects  would  scarcely  be  contemplated  by 
either  party  :  looking  at  their  rank,  their  prospects, 


144 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


and  the  probability  of  a  family,  the  marriage  was 
scarcely  a  prudent  one.  However,  marriage  goes  by 
destiny  ;  and,  notwithstanding  some  objections  amd 
delays  by  the  queen,  consent  was  obtained,  and  on  the 
25th  of  November,  1809,  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  the 
Princess  Marie  Amelje  were  married,  in  the  old  Nor¬ 
man  chapel  of  the  Palazzo  Eeale. 

Before  the  marriage  was  permitted,  however,  the 
queen  of  Naples  had  employed  Louis  Philippe  on 
one  of  her  political  schemes.  When  the  popular  insur¬ 
rection  against  Napoleon  took  place  in  Spain,  she 
thought  of  getting  her  second  son  appointed  regent 
of  the  kingdom  !  Apparently  proceeding  upon  “  the 
one  down  and  t’other  come  up”  principle,  she  dis¬ 
patched  her  son  Prince  Leopold  and  Louis  Philippe 
to  Gibraltar,  that  the  Spaniards  might  take  one  if  they 
rejected  the  other.  The  princes  were  permitted  to 
land ;  but  Sir  Hew  Dalrymple  refused  to  forward  the 
project,  and  Lord  Collingwood,  who  commanded  the 
fleet,  pointed  out  to  the  Duke  of  Orleans  the  insupera¬ 
ble  public  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  scheme,  and 
the  personal  impolicy  of  a  French  prince  in  his  posi¬ 
tion  appearing  in  arms  against  France.  Looking 
rather  to  his  future  mother-in-law  than  to  the  reason 
of  the  thing,  the  Duke  departed  for  London  to  com¬ 
plain  :  but  he  was  informed  that  the  British  govern¬ 
ment  perfectly  approved  of  Sir  Hew  Dalrymple’s 
conduct,  and  could  only  re-impress  Lord  Collingwood’s 
advice. 

Not  content  with  this  intrigue,  the  Duke  on  his  re¬ 
turn  engaged  in  another.  The  object  was  to  put  him 
at  the  head  of  a  Catalan  army,  that,  among  other 


DANTON  AND  LOUIS  PHILIPPE. 


145 


exploits,  was  to  invade  the  south  of  France;  a  project 
that  was  no  sooner  detected,  than  ]Nrapoleon,  by  in¬ 
vading  Catalonia,  gave  the  Catalan  force  enough  to  do 
at  home.  Still  unconvinced,  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  in 
the  summer  of  1810,  again  fished  in  Spanish  waters. 
The  regency  invited  him  to  a  command  ;  which,  not¬ 
withstanding  the  opinion  of  Wellington,  he  persisted 
in  accepting  ;  but  the  plan  was  baffled  by  the  veto  of 
Cortes.  When  the  partisans  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans, 
after  the  success  of  the  “three  days,”  announced  that 
he  was  the  only  Bourbon  who  had  never  borne  arms 
against  France,  Louis  Philipipe  may  have  remembered 
the  prudence  of  the  British  commander’s  advice. 

According  to  a  tolerably  well  authenticated  anecdote, 
Danton,  in  the  early  part  of  the  first  Revolution,  also 
advised  Louis  Philippe  to  act  discreetly.  While  he 
was  with  the  army  under  Dumouriez,  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  expressing  his  views  with  great  freedom  on 
public  measures.  Danton  sent  for  him  and  urged  him 
to  be  more  prudent.  “In  the  future,”  said  the  great 
leader  of  the  Revolution,  “be  silent.  Return  to  the 
army ;  do  your  duty  ;  but  do  not  unnecessarily  expose 
your  life.  You  have  many  years  before  you.  France 
is  not  fitted  for  a  republic ;  it  has  the  habits,  the  wants, 
and  the  weaknesses  of  a  monarchy.  After  one  storm 
it  will  be  brought  back  to  that  by  its  vices  or  by  its 
necessities.  You  will  be  King!  Adieu,  young  man. 
Remember  the  prediction  of  Danton!” 

With  the  unsuccessful  attempt  to  obtain  a  command 
in  the  Spanish  army,  the  wanderings  of  him  who  has 
been  called  the  modern  Ulysses  may  be  said  to  have  ter¬ 
minated.  In  Sicily  tranquillity  first  dawned  upon  his 


14.6 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


agitated  career.  It  was  a  season  of  mild  repose  —  a 
blush  of  light  between  the  storms,  llis  mother,  his 
sister,  and  his  wife  were  at  his  side  ;  children  were 
born  unto  him ;  public  affairs  ceased  to  harass  or  de- 
press  him  ;  he  sought  and  found  happiness  at  the  fam¬ 
ily  hearth,  where  Heaven  provides  it  for  the  meanest. 
In  the  midst  of  the  profound  calm  there  fell  a  thun¬ 
derbolt.  Napoleon  was  beaten ;  Louis  XVIII.  was 
restored  to  the  throne  of  France.  Louis  Philippe 
heard  the  news,  arid  started  for  Paris  that  very  moment. 

Marvelous  vicissitudes  of  life!  The  man  who  had 
been  refused  his  bed  of  straw  at  a  monastery,  reached 
the  French  metropolis,  and,  scarcely  taking  time  for 
refreshment,  hurried  to  the  Palais  Royal  to  set  foot 
again  in  his  maemificent  home.  His  heart  beating 
high,  his  soul  pierced  with  a  hundred  conflicting 
sensations  that  expressed  themselves  in  visible  tears,  the 
restored  heir  paced  the  well-known  galleries  and  vis¬ 
ited  the  well-remembered  gardens.  The  doors  of  the 
grand  staircase  chanced  to  be  opened.  The  visitor  in¬ 
voluntarily  entered,  but  was  stopped  by  a  porter  still 
wearing  the  Imperial  livery,  who  said  that  strangers 
were  not  allowed  in  the  private  apartments.  Louis 
Philippe,  overcome  with  emotion,  fell  upon  his  knees, 
and  in  his  bewilderment  kissed  the  lowest  step  of  the 
staircase.  He  was  recognized,  and  admitted. 

Louis  XVIII.  and  Charles  X.  may  be  said  to  have 
represented  the  dry  sticks  of  Bourbonism  ;  the  sap  of 
the  race  was  gone,  the  rich  blood  of  Louis  Quatorze 
had  ceased  to  circulate.  Whatever  was  chivalric  in 
the  family,  whatever  heroic,  whatever  superb,  what¬ 
soever  could  engage  the  admiration  and  secure  the 


LOUIS  XVIII.  AND  LOUIS  PHILIPPE. 


147 


pride  of  a  people  otherwise  aggrieved,  had  departed 
forever ;  whatever  was  bigoted,  oppressive,  ignorant, 
ridiculous,  and  suicidal,  obstinately  remained.  Louis 
XVIII.  was  scarcely  on  the  throne,  Louis  Philippe 
hardly  housed  in  the  Palais  Royal,  before  intrigues 
were  on  foot  in  reference  to  the  successor  to  the  throne. 
Intriguers  on  every  side  were  busy  as  possible,  when  the 
astounding  announcement  was  made  that  the  chained 
lion  at  Elba  had  burst  his  bonds,  and  was  advancing, 
with  strides  such  as  that  lion  alone  could  take,  rapidly 
on  Paris.  It  was  enough.  Intrigues  were  postponed 
for  the  present.  Louis  XVIII.,  as  quick  as  lightning, 
was  beyond  the  frontier.  Louis  Philippe,  accompanied 
by  his  family,  was  again  at  Twickenham. 

Waterloo  again  restored  the  crown  to  the  Bourbons, 
but  they  were  not  wise  enough  to  retain  it.  The  first 
proposition  made  by  the  House  of  Peers  on  behalf  of 
the  restored  crown,  was  that  all  who  had  taken  any 
part  whatever  in  the  successive  revolutions  of  France 
should  be  visited  with  extreme  punishment.  Louis 
Philippe  was  in  the  chamber  of  Peers  when  the  im¬ 
politic  measure  was  proposed.  lie  protested  against 
it  loudly  and  indignantly,  and  at  his  instigation  the 
obnoxious  motion  was  rejected  without  a  division. 
Louis  XVIII.,  considerably  disgusted,  forbade  the 
princes  of  the  blood  to  appear  in  the  chamber  of  the 
Peers  unless  summoned  by  special  authority.  The 
Duke  of  Orleans  retired  into  comparative  seclusion, 
and  revenged  himself  upon  the  court  by  entering  his 
eldest  son  as  a  student  in  one  of  the  public  colleges  as 
a  simple  citizen.  “I  perceive,”  says  Louis  XVIII.  in 
his  own  memoirs,  and  with  touching  imbecility,  “  that 


148 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


although  Louis  Philippe  does  not  stir,  he  advances. 
LIow  must  I  manage  to  prevent  a  man  from  walking 
who  appears  as  if  he  did  not  take  a  step  ?  It  is  a 
problem  which  remains  for  me  to  solve,  and '  I  should 
be  glad  not  to  leave  it  for  solution  to  my  successors.” 
Poor  old  gentleman !  The  problem  was  too  difficult 
both  for  himself  and  the  brother  who  succeeded  him. 

Retiring  to  Keuilly,  he  spent  his  time  in  the  educa¬ 
tion  of  his  children,  the  cultivation  and  improvement 
of  his  vast  estates,  and,  doubtless,  in  the  careful 
nurture  of  a  public  interest.  Knowing  the  unpopu¬ 
larity  of  Louis  XVIII.  and  his  successor,  he  adroitly 
availed  himself  of  the  preference  of  public  opinion, 
which  turned  instinctively  toward  him.  He  was  re¬ 
served  in  his  attitude,  a  courtier  of  the  king,  and, 
above  all,  expressed  himself  only  in  half  sentences, 
but  in  his  omissions  allowing  a  glimpse  to  be  obtained 
of  a  secret  disdain  for  the  court,  and  favorable  remi¬ 
niscences  for  all  that  breathed  of  the  Revolution.  He 
associated  himself  even,  by  a  skillful  flattery,  with  the 
regrets  and  glories  of  the  army, —  choosing  his  mili¬ 
tary  household  among  the  young  generals  of  Xapoleon. 
His  intimate  society  was  among  the  writers  and 
orators  of  liberty.  He  was  irreproachable  in  appear 
ance  toward  the  court,  and  gracious  and  attractive 
toward  the  rising  opposition.  This  opposition  seemed 
to  spring  up  in  the  very  palace  of  Orleans,  where  the 
Revolution  had  its  birth.  At  last  came  the  Revolu¬ 
tion  of  the  Barricades  (in  1830)  and  the  once  homeless 
and  needy  wanderer  was  elevated  to  the  throne  of 
F  ranee. 

The  new  monarchy  established  in  France  was  ex- 


LOUIS  PHILIPPE  ON  THE  THRONE. 


149 


posed  to  the  most  imminent  dangers  from  the  republi¬ 
cans  on  the  one  hand  and  the  parfizaus  of  the  exiled 
family  on  the  other.  The  republican  party  was  in¬ 
finitely  the  most  formidable,  because,  in  the  capital,  at 
least,  there  was  a  much  greater  mass  to  whom  its  opin¬ 
ions  and  incentives  were  likely  to  be  agreeable.  There 
was  a  spirit  of  extraordinary  earnestness  in  its  mem¬ 
bers  ;  several  attempts  were  made  to  assassinate  the 
king ;  but  all  were  unsuccessful. 

But  there  were  many  elements  of  discord  to  be  over¬ 
come  before  the  throne  could  enjoy  tranquillity.  The 
republican  party  deemed  itself  betrayed  by  the  elec¬ 
tion  of  a  king,  and  several  who  had  consented  to  that 
arrangement  were  satisfied  with  the  limited  extension 
of  popular  privileges  gained  by  the  Revolution.  A 
great  number  of  idle,  discontented  young  men  were 
anxious  to  involve  Europe  in  a  war  of  opinion,  and 
they  denounced  the  king  as  a  traitor  to  the  principles 
which  had  placed  him  on  the  throne,  because  he  re¬ 
fused  to  grant  their  insane  wishes.  The  total  sepa¬ 
ration  of  the  church  from  the  state  alienated  the 
French  clergy ;  while  the  royalists,  recovered  from 
their  first  terror,  began  to  entertain  hopes  of  a  restora¬ 
tion.  Tlius  surrounded  by  difficulties  and  dangers, 
Louis  Philippe  was  far  from  finding  his  throne  a  bed 
of  roses  ;  but  he  evinced  firmness  and  talent  adequate 
to  the  occasion,  and  he  "was  zealously  supported  by  the 
middle  classes,  who  looked  upon  him  as  their  guarantee 
for  constitutional  freedom  and  assured  tranquillity. 

An  insurrection  of  the  Carlists,  as  the  partisans  of 
the  exiled  family  were  called,  in  the  south  of  France, 
injured  the  cause  it  was  designed  to  serve.  It  was 


150 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


easily  suppressed,  but  the  government  learned  that  the 
Duchess  de  Berri,  (whose  son,  the  Duke  of  Bourdeaux, 
was  grandson  of  Charles  X.,)  had  made  arrangements 
for  landing  In  La  Vendee,  and  heading  the  royalists  in 
the  province.  Such  preparations  were  made,  that 
when  the  Duchess  landed,  she  found  her  partisans 
disheartened,  and  their  movements  so  closely  watched, 
that  it  was  scarcely  possible  for  them  to  assemble  any 
force.  Still  she  resolved  to  persevere ;  but  the  enter¬ 
prise  degenerated  into  a  series  of  isolated  and  insig¬ 
nificant  attacks,  made  by  small  bodies  in  a  strong 
country,  and  the  proceedings  of  the  royalists,  con¬ 
sequently,  resembled  those  of  the  brigands.  The 
Duchess  continued  five  months  in  the  country,  though 
actively  pursued  by  the  military  and  police ;  she  was 
at  length  betrayed  by  one  of  her  associates,  and  made 
prisoner.  The  government  of  Louis  Philippe  treated 
the  royal  captive  with  great  clemency.  She  had  not 
been  long  in  prison  when  it  was  discovered  that  she 
was  about  to  become  a  mother,  having  been  privately 
married  some  time  before  her  arrest.  This  unfortunate 
circumstance  threw  such  an  air  of  ridicule  over  the 
entire  enterprise,  that  the  royalists  abandoned  all  fur¬ 
ther  efforts  against  the  government. 

The  Revolution  of  July,  1830,  had  driven  one  dy¬ 
nasty  from  the  throne  of  France,  and  seated  another 
in  its  place.  It  had  thus  prevented  a  return  to  the 
despotic  government  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and 
preserved  the  little  share  of  liberty  which  the  Bourbons, 
on  their  restoration  in  1814,  had  granted  with  a  reluc¬ 
tant  and  sparing  hand,  to  the  French  nation.  Their 
overthrow  was  consequent  upon  their  endeavors  to 


LOUIS  PillLU’PE  AGAINST  WAR. 


151 


deprive  the  people  of  the  freedom  which  was  then 
unwillingly  yielded  to  them. 

The  government  of  Louis  Philippe  gradually  ac¬ 
quired,  by  its  continued  success  in  keeping  down  do¬ 
mestic  factions,  and  maintaining  the  friendly  relations 
of  France  with  foreign  powers,  a  high  reputation  for 
wisdom  and  firmness.  The  peace  of  Europe  was  sup¬ 
posed  to  be  in  the  French  king’s  hands  ;  and  men  con¬ 
gratulated  themselves  that  so  vast  and  important  a 
trust  should  be  grasped  by  a  monarch  so  able  and  so 
averse  to  war.  The  resources  of  France  by  the  mere 
force  of  its  internal  and  external  tranquillity  rapidly 
developed  themselves,  and  the  enterprise  of  the  French 
people  appeared  to  be  at  length  directed  to  other  and 
higher  objects  than  triumphs,  ruinous  alike  to  the 
victor  and  vanquished,  in  the  fields  of  strife.  What¬ 
ever  may  have  been  the  errors  of  the  reign  of  Louis 
Philippe,  and  they  were  many,  his  efforts,  whether  from 
policy  or  from  principle,  to  maintain  the  peace  of  Eu¬ 
rope,  entitle  him  to  lasting  admiration.  His  reply  to 
a  deputation  from  Belgium,  inviting  the  Duke  of  Ne¬ 
mours,  his  second  son,  to  ascend  the  Belgian  throne, 
was  worthy  of  his  reputation.  “The  thirst  of  conquest, 
(said  he,)  or  the  honor  of  seeing  a  diadem  placed  on 
the  brow  of  my  son,  shall  not  induce  me  to  expose  my 
country  to  a  repetition  of  those  calamities  which  war 
entails ;  nor  could  any  advantages  France  might  reap 
from  my  acceptance  of  the  honor  you  propose,  compen¬ 
sate  for  those  evils.  The  examples  of  Louis  XIY.  and  of 
Napoleon  are  sufficient  to  save  me  from  the  fatal  temp¬ 
tation  of  erecting  thrones  for  my  sons  ;  and  I  prefer  the 
maintenance  of  peace  to  all  the  brilliancy  of  victories, 


152 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TMKS. 


unless,  indeed,  in  a  war  in  which  the  defense  of  her 
standard  would  call  forth  the  sons  of  France.” 

These  sentiments  were  still  more  emphatically  ad¬ 
vanced  by  Louis  Philippe,  in  reply  to  an  address  for¬ 
warded  to  him  by  the  English  and  American  societies 
for  the  preservation  of  Peace.  “  I  am  happy,  (said  he,) 
to  receive  these  addresses,  and  feel  particularly  grati¬ 
fied  to  find  that  our  American  friends  should  do  justice 
to  the  pains  I  have  taken  to  maintain  the  general  peace 
of  Europe.  There  is  no  advantage  in  making  war, 
even  when  a  nation  has  attained  the  object  for  which 
it  has  fought,  because,  ultimately,  the  losses  are  always 
greater  than  the  gains.  I  have  ever  professed  that 
principle.  When  I  was  in  America,  forty  years  ago,  I 
was  often  asked  to  propose  toasts  at  public  dinners, 
and  I  almost  invariably  expressed  the  wish  that  uni¬ 
versal  and  permanent  peace  should  exist  among  all 
nations.  I  was  then  exiled  from  my  country,  and 
my  anxious  desire  was  that  it  should  enjoy  peace  and 
happiness.  This  is  what  caused  me  to  adopt  that  salu¬ 
tary  precept.  I  could  not  then  foresee  that  I  should 
be  called  upon  one  day  to  exert  my  influence  and  act 
myself  in  favor  of  that  great  cause.  May  the  Almighty 
accord  me  the  maintenance  of  peace.  War  appears  to 
me  a  malediction  ;  and  war  in  Europe,  between  civil¬ 
ized  nations,  I  regard  as  an  absurdity ;  if  the  smaller 
states  desire  it  we  should  prevent  them  ;  and  as  peace 
between  great  powers  becomes  daily  more  consolidated, 
I  hope,  if  I  live  a  few  years  longer,  that  a  general  war 
in  Europe  will  have  become  impossible.” 

However  much  we  may  doubt  the  full  sincerity  of 
Louis  Philippe,  in  these  observations,  there  can  be  no 


THE  QUEEN. 


153 


doubt  the  views  were  admirable  ;  and  they  presented 
a  curious  reverse  to  the  old  spectacle  of  kings  playing 
at  the  game  of  war  in  spite  of  their  subjects— for  while 
in  France  there  were  many  restless  and  discontented 
persons  infatuated  with  a  desire  for  war,  the  king  him¬ 
self  was  reluctant.  That  Louis  Philippe  thought 
himself  better  able  to  accomplish  his  aim  —  the  per¬ 
petuation  of  his  dynasty  and  the  aggrandizement  of 
his  family  —  through  the  tortuous  and  noisome  ways 
of  diplomacy,  than  by  warfare,  is  quite  certain,  and  it 
is  equally  certain  that  he  relied  much  upon  his  reputa¬ 
tion,  as  a  friend  of  peace,  for  the  stability  of  his  throne. 

Louis  Philippe,  in  the  character  of  a  husband  and 
father,  merited  the  highest  admiration ;  and  he  was 
particularly  fortunate  in  his  family  relations.  By  his 
side,  looking  like  the  guardian  angel  of  his  family, 
was  his  wife,  a  modest,  amiable,  clever  woman,  who 
contributed  not  a  little  to  the  popularity  of  his  family. 
The  queen,  a  daughter  of  a  king,  married  the  Duke  of 
Orleans,  when  he  was  a  fugitive  and  an  exile.  At  that 
time  the  house  of  Bourbon  had  seemingly  no  prospect 
of  re-ascending  the  throne  of  France.  It  had  fallen 
from  too  great  a  height  to  hope  to  rise  again  from  such 
a  depth.  The  marriage  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and 
his  wife  was  founded  wholly  upon  mutual  esteem  and 
affection.  The  Duchess  of  Orleans  loved  her  husband, 
at  first  because  he  was  unhappy,  because  he  was  poor, 
a  wanderer  and  an  exile,  exposed  even  to  the  re¬ 
proaches  of  those  relations  among  whom  he  emigrated. 
She  loved  him,  next,  for  the  fortitude  wfith  which  he 
supported  his  ill-fortune,  and  his  patience.  These 
two  persons  were  admirably  qualified  to  be  always 

7* 


154 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


supporting  each  other  a  little  above  their  position,  what 
ever  that  position  might  be.  Once  upon  the  throne, 
the  Duchess  of  Orleans  acted  and  thought  like  a  queen. 
She  had  been  consulted  by  her  husband  in  all  the  im¬ 
portant  speculations  and  affaix-s  of  their  life  —  she  was 
equally  consulted  in  the  management  of  political  con¬ 
cerns.  But  she  was  a  queen,  as  she  had  been  the 
mother  of  a  family,  without  ostentation.  In  the  bitter¬ 
ness  of  French  political  dissensions,  no  whisper  of 
calumny  was  ever  heard  against  the  queen ;  and  one 
who  could  pass  triumphantly  through  such  an  ordeal 
had  nothing  more  to  dread  from  human  investigation. 
She  was  a  kind  and  affectionate  mother,  a  sincere  be¬ 
liever  in  the  Christian  religion,  and  devout  in  the  per¬ 
formance  of  its  duties.  Her  charity  was  only  bounded 
by  her  means  to  relieve  the  distressed. 

The  king’s  sister,  the  Princess  Adelaide,  formed  a 
part  of  the  royal  family,  and  was  said  to  be  one  of  the 
most  devoted  sisters  a  brother  ever  possessed.  In  the 
qualities  of  head  and  heart,  all  who  knew  her  awarded 
to  her  the  meed  of  praise.  Religious,  charitable,  ex¬ 
emplary,  she  was  one  of  those  who  adorn  high  places 
by  higher  virtues.  Madame  Adelaide  was  four  years 
younger  than  her  brother,  and  had  resided  with  him 
from  the  time  of  his  return  to  Europe,  after  his  exile 
in  America.  From  that  period  she  was  his  friend  and 
adviser  in  all  matters  of  delicacy  and  difficulty.  She 
was  thought  to  possess  a  more  masculine  mind  than 
Louis  Philippe  himself.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that 
Louis  XVIII.  hated  and  rather  despised  the  Duke  of 
Orleans,  but  he  somewhat  feared  Madame  Adelaide. 
The  astute  monarch  was  aware  of  the  courage,  sagacity, 


MADAME  ADELAIDE. 


155 


constancy  and  steadiness  of  this  remarkable  woman. 
Separated  from  her  counsels,  he  thought  the  Duke  of 
Orleans  was  not  dangerous ;  but  under  her  influence 
and  guidance,  he  felt  that  he  had  to  deal  with  a  name 
and  pretensions  which  she  could  render  powerful. 

During  the  last  years  of  the  reign  of  Charles  X.,  no 
one  in  France  more  clearly  saw  the  doom  of  the  elder 
branch  of  the  Bourbons  than  Madame  Adelaide. 
When,  at  length,  the  Revolution  was  successful,  and 
the  triumph  of  the  “three  days”  certain  and  assured, 
she  it  was  who  induced  her  brother  to  accept  the 
crown,  and  while  she  lived  she  was  his  principal  ad¬ 
viser,  and  most  trusted  counselor.  Nor  was  this  won¬ 
derful.  From  the  period  when  they  were  first  driven 
from  France,  he  had  perpetually  corresponded  or  been 
in  conference  with  her,  and  had  always  found  her 
judgment  sure,  and  her  intelligence  and  tact  unsur¬ 
passable  in  difficult  conjunctures.  Together  they  left 
France,  agitated  and  revolutionized,  their  father  one 
of  the  first  victims  ;  together  they  closed,  in  Spain,  the 
eyes  of  a  dying  mother;  together  they  mourned,  in 
London  and  Malta,  over  the  couches  of  their  departed 
brothers,  Montpensier  aud  Beaujolais ;  together  they 
shared,  a  second  time,  exile  from  France together 
they  returned  thither  in  1817.  And  was  it,  therefore, 
extraordinary,  that  a  prince  of  a  cold  and  reserved  na¬ 
ture  should  fly  to  one  whom  he  had  so  often  found 
true,  trustworthy,  and  full  of  resources  under  the  most 
difficult  and  trying  circumstances?  Though  managing 
her  immense  property  —  for  she,  with  Louis  Philippe, 
possessed  between  them,  all  the  fortunes  of  their 
father - — with  commendable  carefulness  and  economy, 


156 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


yet  she  was  by  no  means  so  parsimonious  as  the  king, 
and  remonstrated  with  him  frequently  on  the  small 
allowance  made  to  his  children.  She  relieved  them 
from  many  embarrassments,  and  on  one  occasion  paid 
debts  to  the  amount  of  $2,000,000  for  one  of  them. 
She  died  in  1847. 

Louis  Philippe  bad  eight  children,  six  of  whom 
survived  him.  They  were — Ferdinand,  Duke  of 
Orleans,  born  September  3,  1810;  Louisa  Marie, 
born  April  3,  1812  ;  Marie  Christine,  born  April  12, 
1813 ;  Louis,  Duke  of  Nemours,  born  October  25, 
1814;  Marie  Clementina,  born  June  3,  1817  ;  Francis, 
Prince  of  Joinville,  born  August  14,  1818;  Henry, 
Duke  of  Aumale,  born  January  16, 1822  ;  and  Antoine, 
Duke  of  Montpensier,  born  July  31,  1824. 

The  Duke  of  Orleans  —  who  was  destined,  (according 
to  appearances,  which  human  pride  seldom  condescends 
to  imagine  may  be  fallacious,)  to  wear,  one  day,  the 
most  brilliant  crown  in  the  world  —  was  remarkably 
handsome  and  prepossessing  in  his  appearance.  Like 
all  the  other  children  of  Louis  Philippe,  he  was  thor¬ 
oughly  educated,  and  it  was  to  the  admirable  care  of 
his  father  that  the  heir  to  the  throne,  as  well  as  his 
brothers  and  sisters,  formed  not  only  the  most  intelli¬ 
gent  but  really  the  most  popular  royal  family  in 
Europe.  While  the  grasping  arid  selfish  policy  of 
Louis  Philippe  gained  him  many  enemies,  all  but  two 
or  three  of  his  family  were  favored  with  the  affections 
of  the  French  people. 

In  1836,  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  accompanied  by  his 
brother,  the  Duke  of  Nemours,  visited  Eastern  Europe, 
in  the  hope  of  obtaining  a  wife  from  the  royal  families 


A  PRINCE  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  WIFE. 


157 


of  Russia  or  Austria.  Louis  Philippe  was  eager  to 
secure  matrimonial  alliances  for  his  children  from 
among  the  established  monarchies  of  Europe.  Thiers, 
the  prime  minister,  was  required  to  learn  the  views  of 
those  courts,  without  incurring  the  humiliation  of  a  di¬ 
rect  refusal.  Had  he  possessed  the  moral  courage,  the 
elevated  soul,  which  ought  particularly  to  character¬ 
ize  those  who  till  so  important  an  office  as  the  one  he 
held,  he  would  have  given  the  royal  family  the  only 
counsel  which  ought  to  have  been  acted  upon  —  he  would 
have  represented  to  it  that  to  seek  alliances  with  those 
inimical  to  the  Revolution  which  elevated  it  to  power, 
was  a  gratuitous  degradation  of  itself — that  a  French¬ 
woman,  the  daughter  of  some  considerable  citizen, 
would  be  a  better  guarantee  of  the  nation's  support 
than  a  princess  of  foreign  and  hostile  blood — that  Na¬ 
poleon,  after  an  alliance  with  the  royal  family  of  Aus¬ 
tria,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  morally  abdicated  his 
throne,  for  it  dispelled  the  belief  that  he  felt  himself 
superior  to  the  greatest  kings,  needing  to  have  nothing 
to  do  with,  nothing  in  common  with,  and  nothing  to 
borrow  from  the  old  European  monarchies.  From 
Russia,  Louis  Philippe  was  given  to  understand  he 
had  nothing  to  expect  for  his  son.  His  thoughts  were 
then  directed  to  an  archduchess  of  Austria,  and  the 
Duke  of  Orleans  was  sent  to  Vienna.  But  the  Aus¬ 
trian  government  had  not  forgotten  Maria  Antoinette, 
and  Maria  Louisa.  They  were  not  forgetful  of  the 
various  attempts  that  had  been  made  to  assassinate 
Louis  Philippe.  They  thought  it  quite  out  of  the  ques¬ 
tion  for  an  Austrian  princess  to  form  an  i^liance  that 
might  lead  her  to  the  guillotine,  or  to  be  subject  to  ride 


15S 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


in  a  carriage,  liable,  at  almost  any  moment,  to  be 
pierced  with  bullets.  The  Duke  of  Orleans  returned 
to  Paris,  a  bachelor.  A  less  haughty  alliance  was  then 
contemplated.  May  80,  1839,  lie  married  Helena,  a 
princess  of  one  of  the  petty  German  monarchies.  The 
marriage  was  not  a  brilliant  one  ;  it  had  neither  the 
prestige  of  a  high  monarchical  alliance,  nor  the  heroic 
significance  of  a  national  and  popular  choice  ;  but 
after  the  insulting  refusals  of  the  sovereign  families, 
the  Duke  of  Orleans,  perhaps,  thought  himself  lucky 
in  not  being  refused  by  an  obscure  and  indigent  Ger¬ 
man  princess.  Two  sons  were  born  to  him  —  the  first 
on  the  24th  of  August,  1838,  created  Count  of  Paris  ; 
the  second,  born  in  1840,  was  called  the  Duke  of  Char¬ 
tres.  Unfortunately  the  Duke  of  Orleans  lost  his  life 
on  the  13th  of  July,  1S42.  This  much  lamented  prince 
was  returning  from  Neuilly,  when  the  horses  of  his 
carriage  took  fright,  and  he,  in  attempting  to  jump  out, 
was  thrown  upon  his  head  and  killed.  He  was  the 
most  popular  of  Louis  Philippe’s  sons.  The  Duke  of 
Hemours,  the  second'  son  of  the  king  —  the  proposed 
regent  of  France,  should  Louis  Philippe  die  before  the 
Count  of  Paris  attained  his  majority  —  was,  jierhaps, 
the  least  popular  of  all  the  royal  family.  He  married  a 
daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Saxe-Gotha,  a  cousin  of 
Prince  Albert  the  consort  of  the  Queen  of  England. 
The  Prince  of  Joiuville  married  a  princess  of  Brazil ; 
the  Duke  of  Aumale,  a  daughter  of  the  Sicilian  Prince 
of  Salerno  ;  Montpensier,  the  youngest  son,  married 
Louisa,  the  sister  of  Isabella,  Queen  of  Spain.  All 
these  marriages  were  fruitful  in  progeny,  so  that  should 
France  ever  desire  the  restoration  of  the  Orleans 


THE  PRINCESS  MARIE. 


159 


family,  there  will  be  no  lack  of  heirs  to  avail  themselves 
of  the  invitation. 

The  marriage  of  the  Duke  of  Montpensier  created  a 
tremendous  excitement  throughout  Europe.  Isabella, 
the  Queen  of  Spain,  it  was  feared,  would  die  childless, 
and  in  that  case  leave  the  throne  to  Montpensier’s  wife  ; 
so  it  was  thought  to  be  more  than  possible  that  the 
crowns  of  France  and  Spain,  as  in  the  case  of  Castile 
and  Arragon,  would  eventually  descend  upon  one 
brow.  Yet  all  these  princely  alliances,  Louis  Philippe 
afterward  found,  were  less  influential  in  fixing  his 
family  upon  the  throne  of  France,  than  would  have 
been  the  marriage  of  his  sons  with  the  daughters  of 
French  citizens. 

Louisa  Marie,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Louis  Philippe, 
was  married  to  Leopold,  King  of  the  Belgians.  His 
first  wife  was  the  Princess  Charlotte,  heir  apparent 
to  the  throne  of  England,  whose  early  death  cast  a 
gloom  over  the  English  nation.  Marie  Christine,  the 
second  daughter  of  Louis  Philippe,  married  Duke 
Alexander  of  Wurtemburg.  She  died  of  consumption 
soon  after  the  birth  of  a  son,  her  only  child,  who  lived 
thereafter  in  the  family  of  Louis  Philippe.  She  had 
much  love  for  the  fine  arts,  and  excelled  in  sculpture. 
She  fitted  up  a  studio  in  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries,  in 
which  she  spent  a  great  portion  of  her  time  with  a 
sculptor's  chisel  in  her  hands.  Among  her  statues  was 
one  of  Joan  of  Arc,  on  horseback.  The  horse  is  a  very 
fine  Norman  one,  calmly  and  vigorously  placed  ;  the 
young  warrior,  armed  cap-a-pie,  holds  in  her  hand  that 
terrible  sword  which  she  has  just  used  for  the  first 
time.  The  expression  of  her  face  is  remarkable,  and 


ICO 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


could  only  have  been  conceived  by  a  mind  filled  with 
the  tenderest  and  noblest  feelings.  Joan  of  Arc,  lean¬ 
ing  from  her  saddle,  is  represented  as  having  just 
slain  an  Englishman,  whose  blood  is  flowing  at  her 
feet.  The  sternness  of  the  warrior  has  disappeared, 
and  the  innocent  young  shepherdess  is  seen  under 
her  cuirass.  The  sword  nearly  falls  from  her  trembling 
hand  ;  astonishment,  mingled  with  pity  and  alarm,  is 
seen  on  her  lovely  countenance.  It  is  not  she  who  has 
killed  the  man  :  it  is  her  sword,  swayed  by  some  power 
she  could  not  control  or  resist.  Another  statue  chiseled 
by  the  Princess  Marie,  was  placed,  after  her  death,  at 
the  tomb  of  her  brother,  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  In  the 
pursuit  of  her  favorite  art,  the  princess  did  not  spare 
her  self-love,  and  she  would  take  pleasure  in  relating, 
that,  more  than  once,  she  had  sent  anonymous  works 
to  the  public  exhibitions,  and  that  the  public  had  pas¬ 
sed  coldly  before  these  first  attempts,  and  not  only  the 
public,  who  seldom  flatter,  but  also  the  courtiers,  who 
always  flatter.  She  would  tell  also  of  the  just  severity 
of  the  criticisms  upon  her,  for  unlike  the  greater  part  of 
her  companions,  who  incessantly  attack  criticism,  the 
Princess  Marie  paid  deference  to  it,  saying  that  truth 
was  not  so  painful  to  hear  as  might  be  supposed.  And 
with  how  much  enjoyment  would  she  repeat,  that  at 
one  exhibition  she  had  sent  an  anonymous  painting, 
much  valued  by  her,  and  when  she  passed  before 
the  despised  work,  and  stopped  complacently  to  look 
at  it,  a  flatterer,  who  accompanied  her,  said,  “Ah, 
princess,  you  who  understand  such  matters,  how  can 
you  stop  before  such  baboons  ?  ” 

Such  was  the  family  of  Louis  Philippe.  His  peculiar 


GUIZOT. 


161 


province  seemed  to  be,  to  bring  up,  instruct,  and  en¬ 
rich  his  children.  Ilis  sons  were  all  educated  at  col¬ 
lege,  among  other  young  men  of  their  age.  They 
pursued  the  same  studies,  contended  for  the  same 
prizes,  and  of  these  prizes  they  had  their  share,  but 
not  without  great  difficulty  and  hard  study.  His  chil¬ 
dren  were  the  objects  of  Louis  Philippe’s  enjoyment 
and  activity.  Ilis  errors  chiefly  arose  from  pursuing 
their  aggrandizement  more  zealously  than  he  did  the 
welfare  of  the  French  people. 

The  most  distinguished  man  connected  with  the 
government  of  Louis  Philippe,  was  Francis  Peter  Wil¬ 
liam  Guizot.  He  was  born  of  Protestant  parents,  in 
1789.  Ilis  father  was  a  lawyer  of  some  eminence,  who, 
on  account  of  his  principles  during  the  Revolution,  was 
compelled  to  flee  from  the  country.  lie  was  found  in 
a  remote  province,  by  an  agent  of  the  police,  who, 
knowing  and  respecting  his  character,  offered  to  allow 
him  to  escape,  being  undesirous  to  contribute  in  any¬ 
wise  to  the  death  of  so  good  a  man.  The  worthy  advo¬ 
cate,  instinctively  apprehending  that  in  thus  saving  his 
own  life  he  would  infallibly  endanger  the  life  of  his 
generous  and  humble  friend,  did  not  an  instant  hesi¬ 
tate  to  relinquish  the  last  hope  left  to  him.  He  was 
apprehended  and  beheaded.  Madame  Guizot,  the 
mother  of  the  future  distinguished  minister  of  France, 
was  thus  left  a  widow,  with  two  sons,  of  whom  the  eld¬ 
est,  the  remarkable  subject  of  this  brief  sketch,  was 
entering,  at  the  period  of  the  death  of  his  father,  into 
his  seventh  year.  From  the  death  of  her  husband  and 
their  parent,  commenced,  for  tin's  admirable  woman, 
the  austere  practice  of  those  painful  duties  which 


162 


LOUIS  XAPoLEON  AM)  II1S  TIMES. 


devolved  upon  her.  Notwithstanding  the  interest  with 
which  the  sad  fate  of  her  husband  invested  her  in  their 
native  town,  she  tore  herself  away  from  friends  and 
relatives,  and  proceeded  to  Geneva,  where  she  felt  she 
could  give  her  children  a  more  solid  and  serious  educa¬ 
tion  than  the  distracted  condition  of  France  permitted 
at  home. 

In  1805,  young  Guizot  went  to  Paris,  and  began  the 
study  of  the  law.  Here  the  gravity  and  severity  of  his 
character,  with  poverty,  and  want  of  friends,  kept 
him  long  in  obscurity.  But  he  finally  procured  a  pre- 
ceptorship  in  a  family  of  great  respectability,  where  he 
was  treated  according  to  his  singular  merits,  and 
brought  into  connection  with  influential  society.  In 
this  situation  he  became  acquainted  with  Mademoiselle 
Pauline  de  Meulan,  a  lady  of  excellent  attainments 
and  character,  and  of  a  distinguished  family,  but  im¬ 
poverished  by  the  Revolution.  She  at  that  time  con¬ 
ducted  a  periodical  with  great  success;  but  being  seized 
with  a  serious  illness,  she  feared  she  should  be  obliged 
to  suspend,  if  not  to  discontinue  altogether,  her  labors, 
for  lack  of  the  necessary  assistance.  While  these  sad 
thoughts  were  revolving  in  her  mind,  she  received,  one 
morning,  in  an  unknown  hand,  a  letter,  telling  her  to 
keep  her  mind  at  rest,  for  that  if  the  zeal  and  industry 
of  another  could  suffice,  she  might  rely  upon  the  reg¬ 
ular  aid  of  a  substitute.  The  offer  of  the  unknown 
contributor,  who  was  none  other  than  Guizot,  was  ac¬ 
cepted  ;  and  it  was  not  till  she  had  completely  recov¬ 
ered  that  Mademoiselle  de  Meulan  was  aware  of  the 
name  of  her  benefactor.  This  good-natured  act  was 
not  without  its  uses  to  Guizot.  His  humane  and  liberal 


MARRIAGE  OF  GUIZOT. 


1G3 


conduct  procured  him  friends  and  admirers;  and  when, 
in  the  following  year,  (1309)  he  published  a  “  Diction¬ 
ary  of  Synonyms,”  the  literary  world,  propitiated  by 
his  kindness  to  a  suffering  authoress,  were  civilly  dis¬ 
posed  toward  him.  The  work  on  synonyms  was  rap¬ 
idly  followed  by  a  volume  of  “Lives  of  the  French 
Foots.”  Guizot  had  now  embraced  literature  rather 
than  law  for  a  profession.  lie  published  a  French 
translation  of  Gibbon’s  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  enriched  with  valuable  and  erudite  notes,  indi¬ 
cating  depth  of  scholarship  and  historical  research. 
The  friendship,  founded  on  his  kindness  to  Pauline  de 
Meulan,  ripened  into  love,  and  five  years  after,  (1812) 
they  were  married.  Pauline  was  several  years  his 
senior.  She  was  a  superior  woman,  of  a  grave  and 
reflective  character,  who  struggled  to  make  all  who 
came  into  contact  with  her  purer  and  more  perfect. 
As  was  to  be  expected,  she  acquired  a  great  ascend¬ 
ancy  over  the  steady  and  sensible  young  man  who  had 
chosen  her  for  a  wife.  The  demure  and  hard-working 
student  had  many  angularities  to  round  off — many 
little  defects  of  manner  and  gesture  to  modify.  Mad¬ 
ame  Guizot  became  his  monitress  ;  and  thus  early 
habituated  to  prudence  and  self-control,  these  virtues 
became  a  part  of  his  nature.  Soon  after  his  marriage 
he  was  appointed  to  the  professorship  of  history  in  the 
Paris  University.  In  1814,  on  the  restoration  of  the 
Bourbons,  he  was  appointed  to  a  government  office, 
but  Bonaparte’s  return  from  Elba  sent  him  back  to  his 
professorship.  From  this  period  until  the  year  1820 
his  life  was  mostly  literary,  though  he  was  occasionally 
in  the  employ  of  the  government.  Between  1820  and 


1G4 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  ANT)  HIS  TIMES. 


1822,  lie  published  several  political  pamphlets,  which 
had  great  influence  on  public  opinion.  In  these  pro¬ 
ducts  of  a  powerful  and  reflective  mind,  there  was 
neither  flattery  of  the  people,  nor  abuse  of  authority. 
They  appeared  to  be  the  views  of  a  calm,  conscientious 
man,  taking  his  stand  between  anarchy  and  despotism. 
Guizot  had,  by  these  political  treatises,  become  a  sort 
of  power  in  politics.  Still,  he  did  not  abandon  his  seri¬ 
ous  historical  studies,  and  he  published  twenty-seven 
volumes  of  memoirs  relating  to  English  history.  These 
were  followed  by  twenty-eight  volumes  relating  to  the 
history  of  France.  He  also  translated  several  of  the 
tragedies  of  Shalcspeare  into  French.  In  1827,  Guizot 
lost  his  first  wife,  but  afterward  married,  and  again 
became  a  widower. 

During  the  ministry  of  Polignac,  Guizot  was  elected 
to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  and  wrote  the  famous  pro¬ 
test  of  the  Chambers  against  the  despotic  ordinances 
of  Charles  X.  Upon  the. accession  of  Louis  Philippe, 
he  was  chosen  as  a  member  of  the  cabinet,  and,  except 
when  employed  as  minister  to  England,  he  may  be  said 
to  have  been  a  leading  member  of  every  administra¬ 
tion  until  the  overthrow  of  that  monarch.  His  only 
rival  in  the  public  estimation  was  Thiers.  An 
able  but  unscrupulous  and  dishonest  diplomatist,  he 
bent  the  whole  energy  of  his  genius  to  the  promotion 
of  the  projects  of  Louis  Philippe  for  the  aggrandize¬ 
ment  of  his  family.  The  chief,  and  almost  only  merit, 
that  can  be  accorded  to  the  career  of  Guizot,  while 
minister,  was  his  desire  to  preserve  the  peace  of  Europe. 
His  tricky  and  dishonest  course,  while  in  office,  has 
tended  greatly  to  destroy  the  high  position  to  which  his 
ability,  as  a  historian,  would  entitle  him. 


PERSONAL  APPEARANCE  OF  GUIZOT. 


165 


The  personal  appearance  and  manner  of  Guizot  are 
thus  graphically  described  by  an  English  author: — • 
“Below  the  middle  stature,  somewhat  square-built,  and 
of  an  aspect  always  grave,  if  not  severe,  with  a  proud 
and  piercing  eye,  Guizot  strikes  you  at  first  sight  as  a 
man  of  thoughtful  and  reflective  habits,  and  of  an 
energy  subdued  rather  than  extinguished  by  severe 
study.  Approach  him  nearer,  and  you  will  perceive 
that  he  is  more  spare  in  flesh,  more  somber  in  appear¬ 
ance,  more  livid  in  look,  than  you  had  sujiposed  at  a 
distance.  His  features,  when  excited,  assume  a  disa¬ 
greeable  aspect  —  his  lips  become  contracted,  his  eyes 
appear  deeper  sunk  in  their  cavernous  orbits,  and  his 
whole  appearance  gives  token  of  a  person  of  a  restless 
and  melancholy,  as  well  as  of  a  meditative  disposition. 
There  is  no  gayety  in  his  look  or  manner.  He  does  not 
laugh  nor  joke  with  his  next  neighbor  on  the  bench  of 
ministers,  and  appears  altogether  absorbed  in  public 
affairs  or  in  his  own  reflections.  He  exhibits,  on  his 
entrance  to  the  Chamber,  the  impassibility  of  a  profes¬ 
sor  or  college  tutor.  He  crosses  his  arms,  inclines  his 
head  on  his  breast,  and  attentively  listens  to  the  dis¬ 
cussion.  But  if  the  orator  at  the  tribune  attacks  the 
man  or  his  system,  Guizot  becomes  restless  and  excited, 
rises  from  his  seat,  interrupts  the  speaker,  strikes  his 
desk  with  his  wooden  paper-knife,  and,  giving  a  loud 
contradiction  to  the  member  in  possession  of  the 
house,  asks  to  be  heard  in  reply. 

“At  the  tribune,  notwithstanding  his  diminutive  stat¬ 
ure,  his  appearance  is  imposing,  for  he  has  an  expres¬ 
sive  countenance  —  there  is  much  latent  fire  in  his 
deep-set  eye,  and  notwithstanding  his  dictatorial  and 


166  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  II IS  TIMES. 

pedantical  air,  there  is  a  certain  dignity  in  his  manner. 
His  voice  is  full  and  sonorous,  but  it  is  neither  very 
varied  in  tone  nor  very  flexible.  It  is  dry,  sententious, 
clear,  dogmatical,  luminous,  lacking  the  suppleness  and 
vivacity  of  Thiers,  and  genial  flow,  pathos,  richness, 
and  grace.  But  its  tone,  it  must  be  admitted,  is  gen¬ 
erally  philosophical  and  elevated,  and  he  exhibits 
great  power  of  expression,  and  often  much  adroitness 
in  hitting  the  humor  of  the  Chamber.  Ho  man  seizes 
on  a  leading  popular  idea  with  greater  address,  or 
more  artfully  and  elaborately  produces  it  suited  to  the 
taste  of  a  majority.  Though  he  seldom  breaks  out  into 
those  happy  buists  which  enthrall  and  captivate  the 
auditor  and  hurry  him  along  against  his  will,  yet  he  is 
almost  always  copious  and  fertile,  and  shows  his  supe¬ 
riority  to  the  mass,  as  a  scholar  and  a  man  of  general 
information.  Guizot  is  always  self-reliant,  and  nearly 
always  cool  and  self-possessed.  The  most  frivolous 
and  oft-repeated  interruptions  cannot  turn  him  from 
the  exposition  and  development  of  a  favorite  idea.” 

But  there  was  a  statesman  in  France  even  more  in¬ 
fluential,  and  held  in  higher  estimation  by  the  French, 
than  Guizot.  This  was  Louis  Adolphe  Thiers.  He 
was  born  at  Marseilles,  April  26,  1797.  His  father 
was  a  locksmith  and  small  iron-dealer,  and  his  mother 
a  daughter  of  a  bankrupt  merchant,  of  a  poor  but 
proud  family.  By  the  influence  of  some  relations, 
Adolphe  was  admitted  a  free  scholar  in  the  Imperial 
Lyceum  of  Marseilles,  where  he  acquitted  himself 
creditably  until  1815,  when  he  removed  to  Aix,  to 
enter  upon  the  study  of  law.  Here  he  formed  a  lasting 
friendship  with  Mignet  the  historian,  who  was  his 


THIEKS. 


167 


fellow-student.  In  this  situation,  Thiers  added  history, 
philosophy,  and  belles-lettres,  to  his  law  studies,  and 
imbibed  radical  notions.  Even  then  he  showed  traces 
of  the  demagogue  —  declaimed  against  the  restoration, 
and  made  himself  suspected  by  the  police  and  hated 
by  the  faculty  of  the  college.  Rather  than  confer  the 
prize  of  eloquence  upon  him,  his  instructors  adjourned 
the  trial  a  year,  when,  producing  the  same  piece,  he 
was  outdone,  much  to  their  satisfaction,  by  an  anony¬ 
mous  oration  sent  from  Paris ;  but  what  was  their 
subsequent  mortification  to  find  that  this  also  was  a 
production  of  their  mischievous  little  Jacobin,  who  had 
taken  this  pleasant  method  of  entrapping  them.  As  a 
lawyer  in  Aix,  Thiers  could  get  no  employment,  and 
went  with  Mignet  to  Paris.  They  took  lodgings  in  the 
garret  of  a  miserable  house  in  one  of  the  meanest 
streets  of  the  capital.  A  common  chest  of  drawers,  of 
the  cheapest  wood,  a  bed  to  match,  two  rush-bottom 
chairs,  a  little  rickety  nut-wood  table,  incapable  of 
standing  steadily  on  its  legs,  and  a  white  calico  cur¬ 
tain,  formed  the  inventory  of  the  furniture  which  ac¬ 
commodated  the  future  prime  minister  of  the  greatest 
country  in  Europe,  and  the  future  historian  of  the 
Revolution.  After  some  time  spent  in  poverty  and 
restlessness,  Thiers  obtained  a  situation  among  the 
editors  of  an  influential  journal.  Ilis  bold  and  vigor¬ 
ous  articles  soon  excited  general  attention ;  and  the 
young  politician,  in  despite  of  poverty,  found  himself 
drawn  into  the  best  circles  of  Paris.  lie  was,  how¬ 
ever,  exceedingly  diligent,  and  made  the  utmost  im¬ 
provement  of  the  opportunities  placed  at  his  disposal. 
Through  the  assistance  of  a  generous  friend,  he  became 


168 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


proprietor  of  one-half  of  the  journal  he  conducted.  He 
rose  at  live  in  the  morning,  and  from  that  time  until 
noon,  applied  himself  to  his  editorial  duties,  and  made 
his  paper  so  popular  that  its  receipts  were  increased 
five  fold.  After  having  thus  devoted  those  hours  to 
labor  which  most  Parisians  w'ere  wont  to  consume  in 
sleep  and  idleness,  he  went  into  society,  where  he 
sought,  not  only  to  extend  his  connections,  but  to  col¬ 
lect  information,  which  he  well  knew  how  to  turn  to 
account. 

If  Thiers  were  an  ordinary  man  he  would,  doubtless, 
have  been  abundantly  satisfied  by  his  eminent  success 
as  a  newspaper  writer.  But  he  sought  for  more  perma¬ 
nent  fame,  and  in  1823,  published  the  first  volume  of 
a  History  of  the  French  Revolution.  So  doubtful  were 
the  booksellers  of  his  ability  as  a  historian,  notwith¬ 
standing  his  success  as  a  journalist,  that  the  work  was 
published  under  the  name  of  Felix  Bodin,  a  writer 
then  popular  in  France.  It  created  a  great  sensation, 
and  soon  acquired  a  party  value  altogether  indepen¬ 
dent  of  its  literary  merit.  The  clearness,  vigor,  and 
beauty  of  the  young  author’s  style  —  the  art  and  won¬ 
derful  tact  with  which  he  dramatized  circumstances  — 
added  an  inexpressible  charm  to  his  development  of 
the  revolutionary  movement.  Each  volume  appeared 
with  increasing  popularity.  It  was  followed,  after  an 
interval  of  some  years,  by  his  brilliant,  though  not 
always  reliable,  History  of  the  Consulate  and  Empire. 

After  the  Revolution  of  1830,  Thiers  was  elected  to 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  where  he  soon  distinguished 
himself.  His  most  remarkable  parliamentary  effort, 
was  one  in  regard  to  the  finances.  He  was  chosen  to 


THIERS  IN  TIIE  CHAMBER  OF  DEPUTIES. 


169 


write  the  report  from  the  committee  on  that  subject ; 
but  the  debate  in  the  Chamber  having  been  suddenly 
and  unexpectedly  brought  to  a  close  one  evening,  the 
report  was  in  order  for  the  next  morning.  To  write  a 
report  so  voluminous  in  a  single  night,  was  a  mechani¬ 
cal  impossibility,  to  say  nothing  of  the  mental  part  of 
the  process.  What  was  to  be  done?  Such  reports  are 
always  prepared  in  writing  and  read  to  the  Chamber, 
for  this  obvious  reason,  that  although  necessarily  the 
composition  of  an  individual  member  of  the  committee, 
they  are  in  fact  supposed  to  proceed  from,  and  do  really 
possess  the  sanction  of  all  the  members  of  the  commit¬ 
tee,  as  well  as  of  that  individual  member  who  is  more 
especially  charged  with  their  composition.  Thiers, 
however,  pressed  by  the  exigency  of  the  occasion,  went 
down  to  the  Chamber,  and  apologizing  for  being  com¬ 
pelled  to  depart  from  the  usage  of  the  house,  by  the 
unexpectedly  early  period  at  which  the  report  was 
called  for,  in  giving  an  unwritten  report,  he  proceeded 
at  once  to  the  subject,  aided  only  by  a  few  numerical 
memorandas,  and  delivered  a  speech  of  four  hours’ 
duration,  in  which  he  discussed  and  exhausted  every 
topic  bearing  on  the  matter  of  the  finances.  He 
plunged,  with  ready  and  voluble  fluency,  into  financial, 
political,  and  administrative  details,  intermingled  with 
bursts  of  picturesque  oratory,  with  which  he  astonished 
and  confounded  the  Chamber.  History,  politics,  public 
economy,  questions  of  national  security  and  progress, 
were  passed  in  succession  before  his  wondering  hearers, 
like  scenes  exhibited  in  a  magic  lantern.  As  usual,  no 
topic  was  omitted  —  every  question  was  marshaled  in 
its  proper  place  and  order,  but  the  house,  nevertheless, 

8 


170 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


exhibited  no  signs  of  fatigue;  they  listened  with  una¬ 
bated  interest  to  the  end.  On  several  occasions  in 
pauses  of  his  speech,  after  he  had  continued  speaking 
for  nearly  three  hours,  they  invited  him  to  rest,  not  from 
fatigue  on  their  part,  but  from  apprehension  of  bis  phys¬ 
ical  powers  being  exhausted.  He  proceeded,  however, 
to  the  close  without  suspension. 

In  1832,  Thiers  was  appointed  a  member  of  the  cabi¬ 
net,  and  signalized  his  advent  to  power  by  the  arrest 
of  the  Duchess  de  Berri  and  the  exposure  of  her  frailty, 
wThich  obliterated  any  sentiment  of  chivalrous  compas¬ 
sion  which  the  struggle  of  a  brave  mother,  for  what 
she  believed  to  be  the  rights  of  her  son,  might  naturally 
have  produced.  From  that  period  he  took  a  proini 
nent  position  in  the  administration  of  affairs  until  the 
overthrow  of  his  royal  master. 

In  physical  appearance,  Adolphe  Thiers  is  extremely 
unprepossessing.  lie  has  neither  figure,  nor  shape,  nor 
mien,  to  win  favor.  His  voice  is  thin,  harsh,  and 
reedy  — his  aspect  sinister,  deceitful  and  tricky  —  a 
sardonic  smile  plays  about  his  insincere  and  mocking 
mouth,  and  at  first  view  all  spectators  are  disposed  to 
distrust  so  ill-favored  a  little  dwarf.  The  first  time  he 
gets  up  to  speak  or  rather  squeak,  there  is  a  universal 
desire  to  put  him  down  with  a  universal  laugh.  But  let 
the  little  pigmy  be  fairly  heard,  and  he  greets  his  audi¬ 
tors  with  such  pleasant,  light,  lively,  voluble  talk,  inter¬ 
spersed  with  historical  remarks,  personal  anecdotes, 
ingenious  reflections,  all  conveyed  in  such  clear,  concise 
and  incomparable  language,  that  they  forget  his  ugli¬ 
ness,  his  impudence  and  insincerity.  They  listen,  and 
as  Rousseau  said,  in  one  of  his  most  eloquent  letters, 


THE  WAR  IN  ALGIERS. 


171 


in  “listening  they  are  undone.”  He  fixes  his  huge 
spectacles,  (which  entirely  hide  his  eyes,)  upon  his 
audience,  and  addresses  them  in  a  “how  d’ye  do”  vein 
of  eloquence,  and  soon  captivates  their  attention  just 
as  if  he  was  addressing  each  one  personally.  There  is 
no  warmth,  no  apostrophe,  no  rhetoric,  no  figure  of 
speech,  no  pathos,  but  a  wonderful  tumbling  forth  of 
ideas  rushing  out  like  children  from  a  country  school 
house  —  but  without  any  effort,  any  aim  at  originality, 
any  desire  to  excite  surprise.  It  is  cold,  sensible,  irre¬ 
sistible.  Those  who  know  him  well, do  not  suppose  he 
can  be  in  earnest  about  any  matter  which  does  not  in¬ 
timately  concern  his  own  interests.  The  truth  is  that 
in  his  innermost  heart  he  laughs  at  all  theories,  other 
than  the  one  which  can  raise  Adolphe  Thiers  to  power, 
and  maintain  him  there.  He  is  more  restless  and  rash 
than  Guizot,  but  has  the  same  perseverance  and  im¬ 
perturbable  determination  to  occupy  the  foremost  place 
of  power — the  same  love  of  eminence,  not  for  its 
wealth,  its  luxury,  or  the  other  consequences  of  emi¬ 
nence,  but  for  its  own  sake ;  for  its  activity,  for  its 
responsibility,  and  because  it  satisfies  the  cravings  of 
a  spirit  purely  and  naturally  ambitious  of  managing 
great  events. 

Notwithstanding  the  pacific  tendency  of  Louis  Phil¬ 
ippe’s  reign,  the  war  in  Algiers,  begun  by  Charles  X., 
was  continued  by  him.  Having  taken  possession  of 
Algiers,  it  was  thought  dishonorable  for  the  French  to 
abandon  it ;  while  to  occupy  it,  was  to  be  in  continual 
warfare  with  the  natives.  Another  reason,  probably, 
had  great  weight  in  the  decision  of  Louis  Philippe’s 
cabinet,  in  regard  to  the  continuation  of  the  war.  It 


172 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


afforded  congenial  occupation  to  the  most  restless,  and 
turbulent,  portion  of  the  French,  who  might  otherwise 
have  periled  the  peace  of  Europe.  The  occupation  of  the 
new  possession,  however,  was  a  constant  source  of  em¬ 
barrassment,  and  occasioned  a  continual  and  enormous 
drain  upon  the  treasury.  The  intractable  natives  of 
Algiers,  it  was  found,  were  not  reducible  to  method  ; 
and  European  colonists  could  not  be  induced  to  settle 
among  them.  At  least  the  French,  who  understand 
the  sword  better  than  the  olive-branch,  and  parade 
more  than  utility,  could  make  nothing  of  their  acquisi¬ 
tion.  Nominally  masters  of  Algiers,  they  really  only 
possessed  those  portions  occupied  by  their  garrisons. 
The  neighboring  Moors  and  Arabs  gave  them  constant 
employment,  making  frequent  attacks  upon  the  French 
posts,  while  the  French  sacked  and  burnt  their  villages 
in  retaliation.  Instead  of  dealing  with  the  Arabs  on 
principles  of  conciliation,  and  nursing  the  infant  col¬ 
ony  with  money,  goods,  markets  and  colonists,  the 
conquerors  assumed  a  contrary  policy.  The  most  ac¬ 
tive  and  powerful  chief  arrayed  against  them,  was  the 
celebrated  Abd-el-Kader,  Emir  of  Mascara,  a  province 
lying  along  the  foot  of  the  lesser  Atlas  mountains. 

The  public  life  of  Abd-el-Kader,  (who  was  born 
in  1806,)  commenced  with  the  conquest  of  Algiers  by 
the  French  in  1830.  Chosen  Emir  of  the  tribes  ar¬ 
rayed  in  opposition  to  French  domination,  he  con¬ 
trived  to  rapidly  extend  his  influence  still  more  and 
more  widely  among  the  neighboring  tribes,  until  he 
became  the  head  of  a  powerful  confederacy  of  bellige¬ 
rent  Arabs.  Thenceforward,  for  seventeen  years,  the 
Emir  kept  up  an  almost  constant  warfare  against  the 


THE  FRENCH  AND  TIIE  ARABS. 


173 


French.  The  Arabs,  whose  rude  and  savage  love  of 
independence  is  the  redeeming  trait  of  their  character, 
and  whose  religious  fanaticism  in  the  hour  of  defeat 
arouses  them  to  fresh  exertions,  were  unanimous  in 
their  determination  never  to  yield  to  the  French.  The 
latter  gained  victory  after  victory  without  advantage. 
The  Arabs  were  able  to  flourish  where  the  French  could 
not  exist.  Their  burning  summers,  their  rugged  and 
pathless  country,  were  allies  that  no  treachery  could 
deprive  them  of.  Their  destitution  of  military  sup¬ 
plies,  without  which  no  European  army  can  perform 
the  most  ordinary  operations,  did  not  aftect  their  con¬ 
stant  power  of  annoyance,  or  diminish  their  opportu¬ 
nities  of  harassing  and  surrounding  their  opponents’ 
position.  They  regarded  Abd-el-Ivader  —  who  is  de¬ 
scended  from  one  of  the  most  ancient  Arabian  families, 
as  the  gallant  defender  of  their  faith,  and  the  heroic  • 
chief  of  a  holy  war,  in  which  light  their  contest  with 
the  French  was  universally  regarded.  Pillaging,  burn¬ 
ing,  and  massacring  were  the  order  of  the  day  on  both 
sides.  The  following  example  of  the  atrocities  com¬ 
mitted  by  the  French,  is  enough  to  justify  any  cruelty 
of  which  the  Arabs  may  have  been  guilty.  Among 
the  French  officers,  in  the  early  part  of  1845,  was  a 
Colonel  Pelissier,  who,  on  one  occasion,  drove  a  large 
number  of  Arabs,  belonging  to  the  tribe  of  Ouled 
Riah,  into  a  large  cavern,  in  the  mountains  to  which 
they  were  accustomed  to  retreat,  and  the  entrance  of 
which  they  had  strongly  fortified. 

After  having  surrounded  the  caverns,  some  fagots 
were  lighted  and  thrown  by  the  French  troops  before 
the  entrance.  After  this  demonstration,  which  was 


174 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


made  to  convince  the  Arabs  that  the  French  had  the 
power,  if  they  pleased,  of  suffocating  them  in  their 
hiding-place,  the  colonel  threw  in  letters  offering  to 
them  life  and  liberty  if  they  would  surrender  their 
anus  and  their  horses.  At  first  they  refused,  but  sub¬ 
sequently  they  replied  that  they  would  consent  if  the 
French  troops  would  withdraw.  This  condition  was 
considered  inadmissible,  and  more  burning  fagots  were 
thrown.  A  great  tumult  now  began,  and  it  wTas  known 
afterward  that  it  arose  from  a  discussion  as  to  whether 
there  should  be  a  surrender  or  not.  The  party  opposed 
to  a  surrender  carried  their  point,  and  a  few  of  the 
minority  made  their  escape.  Colonel  Pelissier,  profes¬ 
sing  a  wish  to  spare  the  lives  of  those  who  remained  in 
the  cavern,  sent  some  Arabs  to  them  to  exhort  them  to 
surrender.  They  refused,  and  some  women,  who  did 
not  partake  of  the  savage  fanaticism  of  the  majority, 
attempted  to  fly,  but  their  husbands  and  relations  fired 
upon  them  to  prevent  their  escape  from  the  martyrdom 
which  they  had  themselves  resolved  to  suffer.  Colonel 
Pelissier  then  susoended  the  throwing  of  the  burning 
fagots,  and  sent  a  French  officer  to  hold  a  parley  with 
the  Ouled  Piahs,  but  his  messenger  was  received  with 
a  discharge  of  fire-arms,  and  could  not  perform  his 
mission.  This  state  of  tilings  continued  till  the  next 
night,  when  the  fire  was  renewed  and  rendered  intense. 
During  this  time  the  cries  of  the  unhappy  wretches 
who  were  being  suffocated,  were  dreadful,  and  then 
nothing  was  heard  but  the  crackling  of  the  fagots. 

O  O  O 

This  silence  spoke  volumes.  The  troops  entered  and 
found  eight  hundred  dead  bodies.  About  one  hundred 
and  fifty,  who  still  breathed,  were  brought  into  tho 


ABD-EL-KADER. 


175 


fresh  air,  but  a  portion  of  them  died  afterward.  An 
officer  under  Pelissier’s  command,  in  giving  the  hide¬ 
ous  details  of  this  atrocious  massacre,  said:  “Six 
hundred  bodies  have  already  been  taken  out  of  the 
cave,  without  counting  those  that  were  heaped  one 
above  the  other,  nor  counting  the  infants  at  the  breast, 
who  were  almost  entirely  concealed  by  their  mothers’ 
clothes.  The  colonel  expressed  the  horror  which  he 
felt  at  this  terrible  result.  He  is  afraid,  principally, 
of  the  attacks  of  the  journals,  who  will,  no  doubt,  criti¬ 
cise  so  deplorable  an  act.  One  thing  certain,  is,  that 
it  has  made  the  whole  country  submit.  We  have  been 
obliged  to  remove  our  camp  from  the  neighborhood  of 
the  caves  on  account  of  the  infectious  smell,  and  we 
have  abandoned  the  place  to  the  ravens  and  vultures, 
who  have  been  flying  for  some  days  around  the  grotto, 
and  which  we  can  see  from  our  encampment  carrying 
away  huge  pieces  of  human  flesh.” 

Abd-el-Kader,  like  another  Antaeus,  rose  with  fresh 
vigor  after  each  blow,  and  renewed  the  contest  wflth 
increased  spirit.  For  a  large  portion  of  the  seventeen 
years  that  Abd-el-Kader  maintained  the  war,  the 
French  had  an  army  of  over  100,000  men  in  Algiers, 
the  support  of  which  cost  $200,000,000.  In  1847, 
Abd-el-Kader  was  finally,  through  alleged  treachery 
and  bad  faith  on  the  part  of  the  French,  taken  prisoner 
and  confined  at  Amboise,  in  the  west  of  France,  where 
lie  lingered  in  captivity  until  1852. 

In  person,  Abd-el-Kader  is  very  small ;  his  face  is 
long  and  deadly  pale;  .his  large  black  eyes  are  soft 
and  languishing;  his  mouth  small  and  delicate;  his 
nose  rather  aquiline  ;  his  beard  thin,  but  jet  black. 


176 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


His  dross  was  always  distinguished  by  the  most  studied 
simplicity,  having  no  gold  or  embroidery  on  any  part 
of  it.  His  whole  appearance  is  dignified  and  prepos¬ 
sessing.  His  disposition  is  humane,  and  many  acts  of 
generosity  are  told  of  him.  His  habits  are  correct, 
according  to  the  Arab  standard,  as  he  is  guiltless  of 
any  infidelity  toward  his  wives,  four  of"  whom  accom¬ 
panied  him  to  his  French  prison.  In  regard  to  these 
wives,  the  French  relate  an  amusing  anecdote.  Abd- 
el-Kader,  it  is  said,  lately  employed  a  competent  per¬ 
son  to  give  his  children  lessons  in  writing.  The  teacher 
fulfilled  his  task  in  the  most  exemplary  manner,  treat¬ 
ing  his  little  pupils  with  the  utmost  kindness.  The 
brave  father,  being  very  grateful,  bethought  him  of 
making  the  teacher  a  present  as  a  mark  of  his  esteem, 
and,  after  much  cogitation,  concluded  to  give  him  one 
of  his  Arabian  wives!  The  Frenchman  in  vain  en¬ 
deavored  to  explain  that  he  already  had  a  wife,  and 
that  European  law  only  allowed  him  one.  Abd-el- 
Kader  thought  the  writing-masker  wished  to  be  cere- 
monious,  and  persisted  most  pcrseveringly  in  his  offer, 
stating,  in  a  courteous  manner,  that  he  would  still  have 
three  wives  left  —  enough,  in  the  name  of  Allah,  for  a 
poor  prisoner.  The  matter  ended  and  the  writing- 
master  was  rescued  from  this  ludicrous  dilemma,  by  his 
wife  —  the  original,  European  one — carrying  him  off 
from  the  chief’s  presence,  and  prohibiting  him  from 
ever  entering  there  again. 

Hot  alone  in  the  early  stages  of  his  captivity,  but 
ever  since  he  became  their  neighbor,  the  ladies  of  Am- 
boise,  with  continuous  kindness,  have  exhibited  their 
benevolent  feelings  both  to  him  and  to  the  females  of 


THE  CAPTIVE  EMIR. 


177 


his  suite  and  their  children.  Delicacies  from  their 
kitchens,  and  little  useful  presents  have  been  sent  to 
the  po°r  captives,  who  have  received  these  attentions 
in  the  spirit  in  which  they  were  given.  One  instance 
of  considerateness  gave  particular  gratification  to  the 
Emir.  A  lady  sent  him  a  magnificent  plant,  a  native 
of  his  own  valleys  of  the  Atlas.  It  is  related  that  the 
Emir  on  receiving  it  burst  into  tears.  lie  sent  back 
the  expression  of  his  gratitude  in  the  following  charac¬ 
teristically  poetical  words,  —  “Too  poor  to  offer  you  in 
return  any  thing  worthy  of  your  acceptance,  not  pos¬ 
sessing  even  a  flower  that  I  can  call  mine,  I  will  pray 
to  Allah  that  for  the  love  of  his  servant  he  will  one 
day  bestow  Paradise  upon  you.” 

The  large,  mournful,  gazelle  eyes,  of  Abd-el-Kader, 
his  calm,  beautiful  mouth,  and  his  rich,  jet-black  beard, 
have  gained  many  a  heart,  both  male  and  female  ;  but 
his  misfortunes  are  too  interesting,  too  romantic,  too 
piquant,  to  be  lightly  parted  with,  and  the  French  will 
probably  keep  the  lion  still  caged  as  an  object  on  which 
to  exercise  their  sensibilities.  Occasionally  the  Emir 
appears  on  his  balcony,  accompanied  by  the  ladies  of 
his  suite.  One  of  them  is  said  to  be  still  young,  and 
very  handsome.  This  is  the  report  of  a  young  French¬ 
man,  whose  patient  curiosity  was  rewarded  on  a  happy 
occasion,  when  the  vailed  fair  one  withdrew  the  envi¬ 
ous  screen  of  her  beauties  one  day,  imagining  that  she 
was  unobserved,  that  she  might  the  better  gaze  upon 
the  fine  river,  and  feel  the  soft  breeze  of  an  evening 
in  June  upon  her  cheek.  Occasionally  some  of  the 
children  of  the  captives  may  be  seen  playing  round 
their  parents,  as  they  stand  motionless,  looking  from 


178 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  niS  TIMES. 


their  high  position.  These  little  captives  are  of  all 
shades,  from  white  to  ebony  hue,  and  are  by  no  means 
so  silent  or  so  still  as  their  elders,  for  they  clamor  and 
climb  and  twist  about  upon  the  parapets  in  a  manner 
quite  startling  to  those  who  are  watching  them  from 
below. 

Some  time  ago  the  bishop  of  Algiers,  passing  through 
Amboise,  stopped  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Emir ;  he  ex¬ 
horted  him  to  resignation  —  alas!  what  else  could  he 
preach?  —  and  received  the  same  answer  as  the  illus¬ 
trious  prisoner  always  gives  to  those  who  seek  to  con¬ 
sole  him,  —  “I  gave  myself  up  on  the  sole  condition 
that  I  should  be  conducted  to  Alexandria,  in  order  to 
go  to  Mecca,  where  I  desired  to  finish  my  days.  The 
promise  was  given  me  :  I  ask  for  nothing  further,  and 
I  rely  on  the  justice  of  Allah.” 


CHAPTER  YI. 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 

When  outraged  and  indignant  France  overthrew 
Charles  X.,  by  the  three  days  of  July,  and  drove  that 
monarch  —  sworn  to  destroy  the  liberties  of  the  peo¬ 
ple —  into  exile,  it  conferred  the  throne,  in  its  headlong 
haste  and  infatuation,  upon  Louis  Philippe.  The  throes 
of  France  are  always  felt  in  Italy,  which  has  long 
groaned  under  the  triple  oppression  of  the  Pope,  Aus¬ 
tria,  and  the  petty  princes  ;  and,  no  sooner  was  Charles 
X.  driven  from  Paris  by  a  nation  that  loathed  him, 
than  groups  of  Italian  patriots  were  in  arms,  burning 
to  free  their  country  from  the  shackles  that  enthralled 
it.  The  two  sons  of  Hortense,  now  grown  to  manhood, 
had  been  waiting  for  an  occasion  to  try  their  fortunes, 
and,  encouraged  by  some  of  the  Italian  insurgents, 
they  prepared  to  stake  their  all  in  the  cause  of  Italian 
freedom.  They  believed  that  a  brilliant  career  awaited 
them,  not  unworthy  their  great  uncle,  who  had  found  a 
grave  in  St.  Helena.  When  about  to  join  the  friends 
of  freedom  at  Bologna,  against  Austria,  Prince  Louis 
Napoleon  and  his  brother,  addressed  the  following 
laconic  note  to  their  mother,  who  w7as  unacquainted 
with  their  plans : 

“Mother,  —  Your  affection  will  comprehend  our 
feelings.  We  have  entered  into  engagements,  which 


180 


r.OUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


we  cannot  fail  to  perform,  and  the  name  which  we 
bear  constrains  us  to  succor  the  unfortunate  who  call 
to  us.” 

Their  afflicted  mother  soon  after  hastened  to  meet 
them,  eager  to  withdraw  her  children,  whom  she  loved 
with  tenderness  and  cherished  with  pride,  from  that 
bloody  and  unequal  struggle.  “Feel  proud,  madam, 
(said  General  Armandi,  an  Italian  patriot,  to  Queen 
Hortense,  when  he  perceived  her  maternal  anguish, 
and  shared  all  her  apprehensions,)  feel  proud  at  being 
the  mother  of  such  sons.  The  whole  of  their  conduct 
in  these  melancholy  circumstances,  is  a  series  of  noble 
and  generous  sentiments,  worthy  of  their  name.”  Hor¬ 
tense,  who  was  a  woman  of  great  penetration,  endeav¬ 
ored  in  vain  to  dissuade  her  sons  from  their  rash  and 
perilous  enterprise.  The  princes,  listening  only  to 
their  warlike  ardor,  armed  and  led  forward  a  few 
determined  patriots.  Several  brilliant  actions  were 
fought  with  much  bravery  and  address,  against  greatly 
superior  bodies  of  Austrians.  They  defeated  the  Papal 
forces  on  several  occasions.  Great  rejoicings  prevailed 
in  the  camp  of  the  insurgents :  alarm  and  confusion 
filled  the  Yatican.  Both  were  of  short  duration.  The 
crooked  and  double-tongued  policy  of  the  French  and 
Austrian  rulers  gained  the  upper  hand.  The  two 
princes  were  finally  conquered  and  banished  from  the 
soil  of  Italy.  At  Faenga  the  elder  of  the  two  brothers 
was  attacked  with  an  internal  inflammation  and  ex¬ 
pired,  March  27,  1831,  in  the  arms  of  the  younger. 
Louis  FTapoleon  was  also  sick  from  fatigue,  anxiety  and 
affliction.  The  Austrians  were  in  possession  or  the 
town  where  he  was  concealed,  and  it  required  all  the 


IIORTENSE  AND  HER  SON  IN  PARIS. 


181 


fortitude  and  ingenuity  of  the  Duchess  of  St.  Leu,  (as 
Queen  Ilortense  was  called  after  her  husband  abdicated 
the  throne  of  Holland,)  to  save  the  only  son  who  now 
remained  to  her.  She  caused  a  report  to  be  imme¬ 
diately  circulated,  that  the  prince  had  taken  refuge  in 
Greece  ;  and  although  lodging  in  the  immediate  neigh- 
'  borhood  of  the  commander  of  the  Austrian  forces,  she 
succeeded,  in  the  midst  of  the  most  harassing  anxie¬ 
ties,  in  concealing  her  patient  from  the  observation  of 
all.  By  disguising  herself  as  a  domestic,  and,  what  is 
still  more  difficult  for  a  woman,  concealing  her  grief 
of  heart,  she  conducted  him,  under  the  protection  of  an 
English  passport,  and  not  without  running  great  risks, 
through  a  large  part  of  Italy ;  and,  in  order  to  take 
him  to  a  safe  asylum  in  Switzerland,  she  ventured  to 
brave  the  law  of  proscription,  which  excluded  her  from 
the  soil  of  France.  “At  length,  (said  she,)  I  arrived  at 
the  barriers  of  Paris,  and  I  felt  a  sort  of  pride  in  show¬ 
ing  that  capital,  in  its  best  points  of  view,  to  my  son, 
who  could  no  longer  remember  it.  From  the  windows 
of  my  apartment  I  looked  upon  the  Boulevards  ;  and, 
in  my  present  isolation,  I  felt  a  sort  of  bitter  jov  in 
being  able  once  more  to  behold  that  city  which  I  was 
about  to  leave,  probably  for  ever,  without  speaking  to 
any  one,  or  being  at  all  distracted  from  the  impression 
which  that  view  made  upon  my  mind.”  Thus  it  was 
that  that  young  man,  whose  birth  had  been  announced 
by  salvos  of  artillery  throughout  the  vast  extent  of  the 
empire,  from  Hamburgh  to  Rome,  and  from  the  Pyr¬ 
enees  to  the  Danube,  returned  to  Paris,  after  fifteen 
years  of  exile,  a  proscribed  fugitive.  A  new  impulse 
was  given  to  the  indomitable  ambition  of  Louis 


182 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


Napoleon,  by  his  mother’s  showing  him  from  the  win¬ 
dows  of  her  apartments,  the  scenes  where  she  had  re¬ 
ceived  homage  as  a  queen,  and  enjoyed  an  intimacy 
with  the  Emperor  that  few  others  could  boast.  Hor- 
tense  announced  in  a  letter  to  Louis  Philippe,  her  ar¬ 
rival  in  Paris  with  her  son.  The  king,  notwithstand¬ 
ing  his  family  had  received  many  favors  from  the  Em¬ 
peror  through  the  influence  of  Hortense,*  gave  her  a 
peremptory  order  to  quit  the  kingdom,  and  she  pro¬ 
ceeded,  with  her  son  to  England.  There  the  prince 
employed  his  time  in  completing  his  education,  and 
visiting,  with  the  most  scrupulous  attention,  every  es¬ 
tablishment  of  industry  or  science.  Hortense  and  her 
son  returned  to  Switzerland  in  August,  1831.  A  depu 
tation  of  Polish  noblemen,  who  had  been  sent  from  War¬ 
saw,  visited  Louis  Napoleon,  and  urged  him  to  place 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  armies  of  Poland.  The  letter 
of  the  Polish  chief  contained  the  following  passage : 

“To  whom  could  the  direction  of  our  enterprise  he 
confided  with  greater  hope  of  success  than  to  the 
nephew  of  him  who  was  the  greatest  captain  of  all  ages. 
Should  a  young  Bonaparte  appear  upon  our  battle¬ 
fields,  waving  the  tri-colored  standard  for  victory,  what 
a  moral  effect  would  be  produced,  the  consequences  of 
which  would  be  incalculable  to  our  oppressed  country. 
Go,  then,  young  hero,  the  hope  of  Poland,  and  confide 
to  the  waves,  that  will  obey  at  the  whisper  of  thy  great 
name,  the  future  Csesar,  and  w7hat  is  more,  the  destinies 

*  The  Emperor,  through  the  solicitation  of  Hortense,  permitted  Louis 
Philippe’s  mother  and  aunt,  (the  Duchess  of  Bourbon,  mother  of  the 
Duke  of  Enghein,)  to  remain  in  France,  and  granted  to  the  former  a 
pension  of  $80,000  a  year,  and  to  the  latter  $40,000.  It  was  from  this 
liberality  that  Louis  Philippe  was  supported  while  an  exile.  These 
ladies  wrote  many  letters  to  Queen  Hortense,  expressive  of  their  gratitude 
for  her  beneficent  influence  with  the  Emperor  in  their  behalf. 


LOUIS  NAPOLEuN  AND  THE  POLES. 


183 


of  liberty,  and  you  will  gather  the  acknowledgments 
of  your  brethren  in  arms,  and  the  admiration  of  the 
universe.” 

This  offer  to  a  young  man  of  twenty-two,  however 
much  it  may  have  been  influenced  by  the  name  he 
bore,  certainly  would  not  have  been  made  unless  the 
ability  displayed  by  him  in  the  Italian  insurrection  had 
entitled  him  to  the  confidence  of  the  Polish  generals. 
But  the  misfortunes  of  the  Italian  movement  had 
rendered  Louis  Napoleon  somewhat  more  distrustful 
of  success,  than  he  had  been  the  previous  year,  and 
he  declined  to  accept  the  proposal.  This  refusal  was 
in  accordance  with  the  earnest  entreaties  of  Queen 
Ilortense,  who,  however  frivolous  she  may  have  been 
in  her  youth,  while  intoxicated  with  the  splendors  and 
gayeties  of  a  court,  showed  herself,  throughout  her 
exile,  to  be  a  prudent,  sensible,  affectionate,  and  noble- 
hearted  mother.  Louis  Napoleon,  restless  and  rash, 
was  hardly  contented  with  his  inactivity,  and  even 
contemplated  the  recall  of  his  answer  to  the  Polish 
deputation,  but  the  calamities  that  rapidly  overspread 
that  unhappy  country,  and  its  gallant  patriots,  put  an 
end  to  his  schemes.  In  the  mean  time  his  purse  was 
always  open  to  the  unfortunate  Poles.  All  the  fugi¬ 
tives  that  passed  through  Constance,  his  Swiss  home, 
were  quartered  at  his  expense,  and  departed  from 
thence  loaded  with  presents.  All  his  large’  income 
was  spent  on  them.  Among  other  things,  he  presented 
the  Polish  committee  a  writing-case  that  had  belonged 
to  the  Emperor,  which  was  sold  for  $1000.  The  com¬ 
mittee,  as  an  expression  of  their  gratitude,  wrote  him 
the  following  letter : 


184 


LOUIS  NAPOLI  ON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


“We  should  be  happy  were  we  permitted  to  follow 
the  impulse  of  our  hearts  and  to  preserve,  as  a  sacred 
relic,  an  object  which  formerly  belonged  to  the  great 
man,  whose  death  the  Poles,  (who  of  late  enjoyed  the 
glory  to  belong  to  his  phalanx,)  deplore  with  the  utmost 
grief.  Five  hundred  of  the  Polish  refugees,  warmed 
by  the  generous  solicitude  of  his  heart  for  their  mis¬ 
fortunes,  have  the  honor  to  olfer  their  sentiments  of  the 
profoundest  respect  which  they  feel  for  the  illustrious 
descendant  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon.” 

In  1833,  Louis  Napoleon  published  a  remarkable 
pamphlet,  entitled,  “  Political  and  Military  Considera¬ 
tions  upon  the  Swiss  Confederacy.”  It  gave  evidence 
of  thoughtfulness  and  of  a  fine  talent  for  composition. 
It  created  a  considerable  excitement  in  the  diplomatic 
world,  and  in  the  minds  of  military  men.  The  consti¬ 
tutions  of  the  different  cantons  were  examined,  ana¬ 
lyzed  and  described  with  astonishing  sagacity  for  so 
young  an  author.  It  abounded  in  superior  views  and 
reflections,  worthy  of  a  thorough  diplomatist.  The 
prince  proposed  a  line  of  defense,  which,  if  adopted, 
would  render  the  Swiss  republic  almost  invulnerable 
to  the  hostilities  of  foreign  powers.  As  a  mark  of 
their  estimation  of  the  pamphlet,  the  rights  of  citizen¬ 
ship  were  conferred  on  him  by  the  canton  of  Thurgo- 
via.  lie  returned  thanks,  (May  15,  1833,)  for  this 
mark  of  esteem,  in  the  following  letter : 

“I  accept  the  rights  of  a  citizen  of  Thurgovia  with 
the  greatest  pleasure.  I  am  glad  that  a  new  tie  now 
binds  me  to  that  country,  which  for  sixteen  years  has 
extended  to  us  the  most  generous  hospitality.  My 
position  as  an  exile,  renders  me  doubly  sensible  to  the 
interest  you  show  me.  As  a  Frenchman  and  as  a 
Bonaparte,  I  am  proud  of  being  the  citizen  of  a  free 
country.  My  mother  desires  me  to  tell  you  how  much 
she  is  affected  by  your  kindness  to  me.” 


THE  MANUAL  OF  ARTILLERY. 


185 


Two  years  afterward,  Prince  Napoleon  published  a 
work  on  artillery,  for  the  use  of  the  Swiss  troops,  as  a 
reward  for  which,  the  government  appointed  him  a 
captain  of  artillery.  In  acknowledging  this  mark  of 
esteem  and  confidence,  he  wrote  as  follows  : 

“I  have  just  received  the  letter  which  informs  me 
that  the  executive  council  of  Berne  have  conferred  the 
title  of  captain  of  artillery  on  me,  and  hasten  to  ex¬ 
press  to  you  my  gratitude  for  this  nomination.  My 
country,  or  rather  the  French  government,  repulses  me 
because  I  am  the  nephew  of  Napoleon  ;  you  are  more 
just.  I  am  proud  of  being  numbered  among  the  de¬ 
fenders  of  a  state  in  which  the  sovereignty  of  the  people 
is  considered  as  the  basis  of  the  constitution,  and  where 
every  citizen  is  ready  to  sacrifice  himself  for  the  liberty 
and  independence  of  his  country.” 

This  work  was  the  result  of  three  years  of  laborious 
research,  serious  meditation,  and  an  immense  number 
of  practical  experiments.  The  most  competent  authori¬ 
ties  gave  this  work  the  highest  praise,  and  pronounced 
Louis  Napoleon  to  be  one  of  the  most  competent  mili¬ 
tary  tacticians  of  the  age.  The  Swiss,  French  and 
English  journals,  almost  unanimously  pronounced  it 
the  best  treatise  on  artillery  existing  in  Europe.  Al¬ 
though  nominally  prepared  for  the  use  of  the  Swiss 
troops,  the  real  object  of  its  composition,  undoubtedly, 
was  to  win  the  attention  of  the  French  officers,  espe¬ 
cially  those  who  regarded  with  pride  the  splendid 
achievements  of  the  Emperor.  In  this  Louis  Napoleon 
was  eminently  successful,  for  many  who  had  scarcely 
thought  of  his  existence  at  all,  began  to  reflect  upon 
his  position  as  a  Bonaparte,  and  upon  what  it  might 
be,  should  a  popular  convulsion  overthrow  the  throne 
of  Louis  Philippe. 


ISO  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

In  1S35,  Donna  Maria,  Queen  of  Portugal,  having 
lost  her  husband,  the  Duke  of  Leuchtenberg,  (son  of 
Eugene  Beauharnois,)  the  question  of  providing  her 
with  another  husband  was  agitated  among  the  Portu¬ 
guese.  Some  persons  of  distinction  opened  a  negotia¬ 
tion  with  Louis  Napoleon,  on  the  subject  of  marrying 
the  royal  widow.  But  as  such  a  step  would  destroy 
his  prospects  of  becoming  ruler  of  France,  he  per¬ 
emptorily  declined  the  proffered  honor.  A  prince 
without  power  and  an  exile  without  a  country,  he 
seems  to  have  had  implicit  faith  that  he  would  ulti¬ 
mately  become  the  successor  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon, 
on  the  imperial  throne  of  France;  and  he  was  unwil¬ 
ling  to  barter  off  his  hopes,  however  dim  their  realiza¬ 
tion  might  seem,  for  any  present  dignity,  however 
brilliant.  The  following  letter,  published  by  him,  in 
regard  to  his  rumored  intention  of  becoming  the  con- 
sort  of  the  Portuguese  Queen,  is  clearly  characterized 
byT  this  feeling : 

“  Arenemberg,  December  14th,  1835. 

“Several  of  the  public  journals  have  announced  the 
news  of  my  departure  for  Portugal,  as  a  suitor  for  the 
hand  of  Queen  Donna  Maria.  However  flattering  to 
me,  might  be  the  supposition  of  a  union  with  a  young, 
beautiful,  and  virtuous  queen,  the  widow  of  a  cousin 
who  was  dear  to  me,  it  is  my  duty  to  disclaim  such  a 
report,  for  which  there  is  no  foundation  whatever.  I 
owe  it  to  myself  moreover  to  add,  that  notwithstanding 
the  lively  interest  which  I  feel  in  the  destinies  of  a 
nation  which  has  just  recovered  its  liberties,  I  would 
refuse  the  honor  of  sharing  the  throne  of  Portugal, 
should  I  be  deemed  worthy  of  such  an  honor. 

“  The  noble  conduct  of  my  father,  who  abdicated  in 
1810,  because  he  could  not  combine  the  interests  of 
France  with  those  of  Holland,  has  never  departed  from 


LAFAYETTE  AND  LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 


187 


mv  mind.  My  father  has  proved  to  me  by  his  illustri¬ 
ous  example,  how  much  one’s  country  is  preferable  to 
a  foreign  throne.  I  feel,  in  fact,  that  having  been  ac¬ 
customed  from  my  youth  to  cherish  my  country  above 
every  thing  else,  1  could  not  prefer  any  thing  to  French 
interests. 

“Persuaded  that  the  great  name  which  I  bear  shall 
not  always  constitute  a  title  of  exclusion  in  the  eyes  of 
my  fellow-countrymen,  because  it  recalls  to  their  mind 
fifteen  years  of  glory,  I  wait  with  calmness,  in  a  free 
and  hospitable  country,  till  the  people  recall  into  their 
minds  those  who  were  exiled  in  1815,  by  1,200,000 
foreigners.  The  hope  of  one  day  serving  France  as  a 
citizen  and  a  soldier,  fortifies  my  mind,  and  in  my 
eyes,  is  of  more  value  than  the  whole  world. 

“Accept,  &c., 

“Napoleon  Louis  Napoleon.”* 

As  early  as  1833,  Louis  Napoleon  had  been  in  con¬ 
sultation  with  Lafayette  in  regard  to  French  affairs. 
The  latter  was  dissatisfied  with  Louis  Philippe,  and 
regretted  having  placed  him  on  the  throne.  “Put 
France  is  not  republican,  (he  added ;)  we  considered 
the  Duke  of  Reichstadt  as  a  prisoner,  and  there  was 
no  one  but  Louis  Philippe  that  we  could  place  at  the 
head  of  the  nation.”  lie  thought  that  the  government 
of  Louis  Philippe  could  not  stand,  and  that  the  name 
of  Bonaparte  being  the  most  popular  one  in  France, 
Louis  Napoleon  might  grasp  the  imperial  eagles 
and  bear  them  successfully  to  Paris.  After  the  la¬ 
mented  death  of  Lafayette,  Armand  Carral,  the 

*  At  this  period  Louis  Napoleon  seems  to  have  been  unsettled  in 
regard  to  the  name  he  should  assume.  Although  his  baptismal  namo 
was  Charles  Louis  Napoleon,  his  letters  are  indiscriminately  signed 
“Napoleon  Bonaparte,”  “Napoleon  Louis  Bonaparte,”  and  “  Napoleon 
Louis  Napoleon.”  Since  his  accession  to  the  Presidency  of  France  he 
has  adopted  the  name  of  “  Louis  Napoleon.” 


188 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


acknowledged  leader  of  the  republican  party,  continued 
the  intercourse  with  the  Prince.  “Ilis  political  and 
military  works,  (said  Carral  in  regard  to  Louis  Na¬ 
poleon,)  prove  that  lie  has  a  noble  character  and  a 
strong  mind.  II is  name  is  the  greatest  of  modern 
times.  If  he  understands  the  new  interests  of  France, 
if  he  is  willing  to  forget  his  claim  to  imperial  rights, 
and  think  only  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  people,  he 
may  yet  be  called  to  play  a  great  part.”  These  words 
were  reported  . to  Louis  Napoleon,  and  while  they  in¬ 
flamed  his  ambition,  strengthened  his  determination  to 
court  the  republican  party,  whose  assistance  was  essen¬ 
tial  to  the  overthrow  of  Louis  Philippe.  He  sought 
diligently  to  obtain  the  confidence  of  the  republicans, 
and  to  win  the  affections  of  the  army.  By  means  of 
trusty  agents  he  sounded  the  dispositions  of  the  troops 
and  their  officers,  entered  into  communication  with 
important  personages,  and  obtained  information  as  to 
the  position  of  parties.  The  result  of  his  investigation 
was  neither  quite  favorable  nor  quite  discouraging. 
There  were  germs  of  dissatisfaction  in  the  army ;  no 
doubt  it  was  attached  by  its  recollections  to  the  Em¬ 
peror  ;  some  of  the  commanding  officers  promised 
their  swords,  but  only  after  the  first  victory  should  be 
won.  The  persons  of  note  to  whom  overtures  had  been 
made,  showed  themselves  well-disposed  rather  than 
hostile.  Louis  Philippe  was  evidently  unpopular,  and 
doubtless  it  was  from  policy  rather  than  from  any  par¬ 
tiality  to  the  young  Bonaparte,  that  the}r  wished,  with¬ 
out  committing  themselves  to  his  cause,  to  be  in  a 
situation  to  make  the  most  of  circumstances,  should 
Louis  Philippe  be  overthrown. 


REVOLUTIONARY  PROJECTS. 


189 


In  the  month  of  July,  1836,  Louis  Xapoleon  went 
to  Baden,  in  order  to  be  near  the  French  frontier.  He 
had  resolved  to  make  a  decisive  blow,  though  what  the 
blow  should  be,  or  when  it  should  be  struck,  were  not 
matters  of  certainty.  lie  relied  more  upon  the  hap¬ 
pening  of  some  favorable  exigency  than  upon  any  pre¬ 
arranged  plan.  The  magic  of  his  name,  however,  was 
his  chief  reliance.  His  favorite  idea  was  that  of 
throwing  himself  into  some  large  and  strongly  forti¬ 
fied  town,  and  there,  by  the  influence  of  his  name,  and 
the  boldness  of  his  movement,  to  rally  around  him  the 
inhabitants  and  the  garrison ;  then  to  hasten,  by  forced 
marches,  to  Paris,  winning  on  his  way  both  troops  and 
people.  After  much  thought,  Strasbourg  appeared  to 
him  the  most  favorable  city  for  the  execution  of  his 
designs,  if  such  his  crude  hopes  rather  than  purposes, 
may  be  called.  An  immense  arsenal,  with  military 
resources  of  every  kind  in  abundance,  a  garrison  of 
ten  thousand  men,  and  a  population  greatly  dissatisfied 
with  the  established  government,  made  this  an  impor¬ 
tant  place  for  the  ground-work  of  his  operations.  The 
news  of  a  revolution  at  Strasbourg  —  thus  he  rea¬ 
soned —  accomplished  by  the  nephew  of  the  Emperor, 
in  the  name  of  liberty  and  the  sovereignty  of  the  peo¬ 
ple,  would  influence  all  minds.  Once  master  of  the 
city,  a  national  guard  would  immediately  be  organized, 
which  would  be  sufficient  to  man  the  fortress.  The 
same  day  on  which  this  great  revolution  should  be 
accomplished,  every  thing  would  be  arranged  for  the 
march  to  Paris,  on  the  morrow,  with  ten  thousand 
men,  as  many  camp  followers,  one  hundred  pieces  of 
cannon,  and  a  supply  of  arms  for  the  population  on 


190 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


the  route.  The  example  of  Strasbourg  would  carry 
with  it  all  Alsace  and  its  garrisons.  The  line  of  march 
would  be  through  Vosges,  Lorraine,  and  Champagne. 
"What  grand  reminiscences  would  be  awakened  !  What 
resources  secured  by  the  patriotism  of  these  provinces ! 
Metz  would  obey  the  impulse  received  from  Stras¬ 
bourg.  Nancy,  and  her  garrisons  would  be  surprised, 
on  the  fourth  day,  before  the  government  would  have 
time  to  act!  The  national  cause,  as  Prince  Louis  Na¬ 
poleon  seemed  to  regard  his  scheme,  would  be  strength¬ 
ened  every  day!  Proclamations  made  to  excite  the 
sympathies  of  the  people  would  penetrate  everywhere; 
they  would  spread  over  the  north,  the  west,  the  middle 
and  the  south  of  France!  Besangon,  Lyons,  Grenoble, 
would  feel  the  electrifying  effect  of  this  grand  revolu¬ 
tion  !  The  government  would  be  powerless !  It  would 
be  unable  to  retard,  much  less  to  arrest,  the  progress 
of  a  movement  begun  with  such  energy !  To  this 
army  of  citizens  and  soldiers,  enthusiastic  for  liberty 
,and  glory,  it  could  only  oppose  regiments  shaken  by 
the  contagious  example  of  revolt!  Paris  and  France 
would  acknowledge  Louis  Napoleon  as  their  liberator, 
and  by  so  doing  enable  him  to  become  their  tyrant! 
So  ran  the  reveries  of  the  rash  and  audacious  dreamer. 
Llis  presence  in  France,  and  the  magic  of  the  name 
he  bore,  were  to  accomplish  all!  Strasbourg  and  all 
France  must  yield  to  him!  “If  the  present  govern¬ 
ment,  (said  he  to  the  friends  to  whom  he  communi¬ 
cated  his  projects  and  his  hopes,)  has  committed  suffi¬ 
cient  faults  to  make  another  revolution  desirable ;  if 
the  government  of  Napoleon  has  left  sufficiently  deep 
roots  in  the  nation,  I  have  but  to  appear  before  the 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AT  STRASBOURG. 


191 


army  and  people,  to  remind  them  of  their  former  pros¬ 
perity  and  glory,  of  their  present  humiliation  and 
grievances,  and  they  will  join  me.  France  wishes  for 
national  institutions  as  representatives  of  their  rights  ; 
for  a  man  or  a  family  to  represent  her  interests.  She 
wishes  for  the  popular  principles  of  the  republic,  ac¬ 
companied  by  stability  —  for  the  national  dignity,  the 
order,  the  internal  prosperity,  but  not  the  conquests  of 
the  empire  ;  she  might  desire  the  external  alliance  of 
the  restoration,  but  wdiat  can  she  wish  or  hope  for  from 
the  present  government?  My  ambition  is  to  appear 
with  the  most  popular  and  glorious  banners  ;  to  rally 
all  that  is  generous  and  noble  in  every  party  around 
me;  to  restore  the  national  dignity  without  war,  liberty 
without  anarchy,  stability  without  despotism.  To  suc¬ 
ceed  in  this  plan  I  must  be  acknowledged  and  assisted 
by  the  people,  for  from  the  people  alone  proceed  rea¬ 
son  anti  justice.”  It  is  by  no  means  certain  that  the 
prince  argued  unwisely. 

At  Baden,  Louis  Napoleon  became  acquainted  with 
several  young  officers,  who  declared  themselves  ready 
to  join  him.  One  evening,  after  one  of  those  brilliant 
parties,  so  customary  at  fashionable  watering  places, 
he  mounted  his  horse,  and  accompanied  by  a  friend, 
soon  arrived  at  Strasbourg.  In  a  room  hired  for  the 
purpose,  fifteen  officers  met  that  night.  When  they 
heard  that  Louis  Napoleon  was  about  to  appear  before 
them,  they  exclaimed  enthusiastically  :  “The  Emperor’s 
nephew  shall  be  welcome!  He  has  nothing  to  fear; 
he  has  confided  in  us ;  we  would  defend  him  at  the 
peril  of  our  own  lives!”  The  prince  then  made  his 
appearance  :  “  Gentlemen,  (said  he,)  I  have  confided 


192 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


in  your  honor;  I  have  perhaps  risked  my  life  in  order 
to  see  you.  I  wish  to  learn  from  yourselves  what  are 
your  feelings  and  opinions.  If  the  nation  views  the 
present  state  of  the  country  as  I  do,  I  think  I  can  he 
useful.  The  great  man  is  no  more,  but  our  cause  is 
the  same  as  in  his  time.  The  eagle,  that  sacred  em¬ 
blem,  represents,  as  in  1815,  the  rights  of  the  people 
and  the  national  glory.  I  act  not  from  personal  ambi¬ 
tion,  therefore  tell  me  if  I  am  wrong,  and  although 
exile  with  its  cares  and  sorrows  has  weighed  heavily 
upon  me,  I  will  resign  myself  to  living  in  a  foreign 
land,  until  happier  days.”  “No!”  exclaimed  the  as¬ 
sembled  officers,  “you  shall  not  languish  in  exile;  we 
have  long  sympathized  with  you ;  wre  will  restore  you 
to  your  country.” 

The  ardor  of  the  conspirators  went  on  increasing, 
and,  had  they  not  possessed  resolution  and  daring  of 
their  own,  there  was  a  woman  among  them  who  would 
have  set  them  a  bold  example.  Madame  Gordon,  the 
daughter  of  a  captain  of  the  imperial  guards,  and 
brought  up  in  the  worship  of  the  Emperor,  appeared 
at  Strasbourg  and  Baden  as  a  professional  singer. 
Louis  Napoleon  became  her  ardent  admirer.  She  was 
informed  of  all  his  projects,  and  immediately  plunged 
into  the  conspiracy  wuth  the  characteristic  impetuosity 
of  female  zeal.  Young,  beautiful,  and  fascinating,  this 
ambitious  lady  speedily  acquired  great  influence 
among  the  conspirators,  and  urged  on  the  development 
of  the  plot. 

On  the  25th  of  October,  1836,  Louis  Napoleon,  who 
had  returned  from  Baden  to  Arenemberg,  again  left 
his  mother  under  the  pretext  of  joining  a  hunting 


INTERVIEW  WITH  COLONEL  VAUDREY. 


193 


party.  A  rendezvous  had  been  assigned  in  the  grand 
duchy  of  Baden  to  some  important  personages  on 
whom  he  counted.  He  found  no  one  at  the  place  ap¬ 
pointed,  and  after  waiting  three  days,  resolved  to  set 
out  for  Strasbourg,  where  he  arrived,  October  28th. 
The  next  day  he  had  an  interview  with  Colonel  Yau- 
drey,  which  would  have  made  a  man  of  a  more  patient 
temperament  hesitate.  The  colonel  urged  in  objection, 
the  rashness  of  the  enterprise  ;  the  number  of  chances 
against  it;  the  extreme  uncertainty  of  success  among 
so  many  hostile  passions,  and  so  many  interests  prompt 
to  take  alarm ;  and  also  the  impropriety  of  exposing 
the  Emperor’s  nephew  to  such  great  dangers.  These 
prudential  counsels  had  the  more  weight,  coming  from 
a  man  full  of  courage,  who  had  been  often  proved  in 
battle ;  but  Louis  Najioleon  thought  he  had  gone  too 
far  to  retreat,  and  the  colonel  gave  way.  The  Prince 
then  showed  him  a  paper  in  which  he  agreed  to  confer 
an  income  of  $2000  to  each  of  Yaudrey’s  children,  but 
the  incorruptible  old  veteran  indignantly  tore  up  the 
document,  exclaiming,  —  “I  give  my  blood,  I  do  not 
Bell  it!”  Colonel  Yaudrey  was  commander  of  the 
regiment  in  which  the  Emperor  had  made  his  first 
campaign,  and  which  at  a  later  period,  (on  his  return 
from  Elba,)  proud  of  the  recollection  of  this  circum¬ 
stance,  welcomed  him  with  transports  at  Grenoble,  and 
formed  his  escort  in  his  triumphal  march  to  Paris. 

Louis  Napoleon  found  a  still  more  important,  al¬ 
though  a  less  distinguished  auxiliary,  in  the  person  of 
M.  de  Persigny.  With  a  quick  and  easy  wit,  •lever, 
energetic  and  bold,  and  with  a  mind  full  of  resources, 
M.  de  Persigny  was  at  once  the  directing  intelligence 
9 


194 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


and  the  acting  agent  of  the  adventures  to  which  he 
had  devoted  himself.  Diplomatic  by  instinct  rather 
than  by  education,  he  wove  the  thread  of  the  conspir¬ 
acy  with  consummate  ability,  and  in  a  manner  to  leave 
him  free  to  impress  it  with  whatever  direction  he 
thought  best.  Somewhat  of  a  flatterer,  flattery  with 
him  was  only  a  means  of  ruling,  and  leading  the  self- 
will  and  vanity  of  men,  as  with  a  chain  of  flowers, 
much  stronger  than  a  chain  of  iron.  A  conspirator  by 
disposition  and  upon  calculation,  an  adventure  had 
irresistible  attractions  for  him.  Devoid  of  enthusiasm 
or  passion,  he  enlisted  himself  rather  in  the  fortunes 
of  the  man  than  for  the  man  himself,  or  his  cause. 
Cool  and  impassible  in  the  face  of  danger,  no  peril 
could  deter  or  stop  him.  With  a  forethought  which 
prepared  all  the  combinations,  and  a  boldness  intimi¬ 
dated  by  nothing,  he  was  the  most  active  man  in  the 
conspiracy. 

Other  actors,  of  secondary  importance,  were  grouped 
around  these  leaders,  who  risked  not  only  their  own 
lives,  but  the  repose  of  society,  in  their  hazardous  ex¬ 
ploit.  Madame  Gordon*,  in  the  character  of  a  public 
singer  at  Strasbourg,  had  drawn  many  of  these  around 
her  as  admirers,  and,  making  their  adherence  to  the 
plot  for  the  elevation  of  Louis  Napoleon,  the  condition 
on  which  they  were  to  receive  her  smiles,  had  involved 
them  in  the  conspiracy. 

The  30th  of  November,  1836,  was  the  day  fixed  for 
the  commencement  of  the  insurrection.  It  was  agreed 
that  the  first  thing  requisite  was  to  win  a  considerable 
armed  force  over  to  the  Prince’s  side,  so  that  the  feel¬ 
ings  of  the  inhabitants  of  Strasbourg  might  not  bo 


NIGIIT  BEFORE  TIIE  INSURRECTION. 


195 


epressed  by  the  authorities.  After  some  discussion, 
it  was  decided  that  the  Prince  should  present  himself 
to  the  4th  regiment  of  artillery,  at  the  Austerlitz  bar¬ 
racks,  and  from  thence  proceed  to  the  Finkmatt  bar¬ 
rack,  where  the  46th  regiment  of  the  line  was  quartered. 
If  these  two  regiments  joined  him,  all  military  difficul¬ 
ties  were  at  once  at  an  end.  The  Prince’s  proclamations 
would  be  instantly  printed  and  posted  up ;  the  authori¬ 
ties  would  be  arrested,  and  it  would  be  impossible  to 
put  a  stop  to  this  popular  movement.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  46th  would  not  join  the  Prince,  those  officers 
who  were  devoted  to  him  would  assemble  the  3d  regi¬ 
ment  of  artillery,  and  the  Prince  would  then  have  been 
master  of  a  force  superior  to  any  that  could  have  been 
opposed  to  him. 

Kooms  were  rented  in  a  private  house,  at  a  short 
distance  from  the  Austerlitz  barracks.  Thither  Louis 
Napoleon  repaired  on  the  evening  of  the  29th  of  Octo¬ 
ber.  A  message  was  then  sent  to  those  officers  upon 
whom  he  could  rely.  They  came,  successive^,  toward 
three  o’clock,  and  his  rooms  were  soon  crowded.  lie 
now  recapitulated  his  plans,  and  the  means  he  pos¬ 
sessed  of  executing  them,  informed  every  one  of  what 
he  would  be  called  upon  to  do  in  the  morning,  and 
then  read  his  proclamations  aloud.  At  6  o’clock  in 
the  morning  Colonel  Vaudrey  was  to  repair  to  the 
Austerlitz  barrack.  The  Prince  exclaimed,  “My  poor 
mother,  I  have  deceived  her!  She  believes  that  I  am 
with  my  cousin.  She  must  learn  from  myself  what 
may  be  my  fate.”  He  then  wrote  two  hasty  letters,  in 
one  of  which  he  informed  his  mother  of  the  success  of 
his  enterprise;  in  the  other  he  said,  “I  have  fallen, 


196 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


mother,  but  in  a  noble  cause.  Do  not  weep ;  do  not 
blame  any  one;  nothing  but  my  own  convictions  could 
have  induced  me  to  act  as  I  have  done  ;  1  have  been 
influenced  by  no  one ;  when  I  crossed  the  Rhine  I  was 
prepared  for  all.”  He  was  evidently  moved  as  he  gave 
the  letters  to  one  who  stood  near  him,  saying,  “If  I  am 
well  received  by  the  flrst  regiment  before  which  I  pre¬ 
sent  myself,  we  are  certain  of  success ;  therefore  let 
the  first  letter  be  instantly  dispatched  to  my  mother. 
If  I  fall,  send  the  other ;  it  will  be  my  farewell.”  The 
tears  started  to  his  eyes  as  he  spoke,  but  as  the  sound 
of  the  trumpet  wTas  heard  at  that  moment,  he  con¬ 
quered  his  emotion,  and  recovered  that  composure 
which  did  not  desert  him  during  all  the  events  of  that 
day.  “This  is  a  solemn  moment,  (said  he,  as  he  rose;) 
we  are  about  commencing  a  great  enterjmse;  if  it  suc¬ 
ceeds,  the  benedictions  of  our  country  will  be  our  re¬ 
ward  ;  if  it  fails,  the  world  will  not  find  words  strong 
enough  to  depict  the  folly  of  our  attempt ;  but  we  will 
bear  that  with  resignation.  We  will  remember  the 
long  sufferings  of  the  Emperor  at  St.  Helena.  We 
shall  fall  in  a  great  cause,  and  the  French  nation  will 
pity  us.” 

In  the  mean  time,  the  soldiers  of  Colonel  Yaudrey’s 
regiment,  aroused  at  an  unusual  hour  by  the  sound  of 
the  trumpet,  hastened  down  to  the  court-yard  of  their 
barracks,  anxiously  inquiring  what  had  happened. 
They  were  ordered  to  stand  in  two  rows  on  each  side 
of  the  court,  so  that  every  man  might  see  all  that  was 
to  take  place.  The  Prince,  having  been  informed  that 
the  reo-iment  was  assembled,  hastened  to  the  scene  of 

o  1 

action.  A  movement  of  curiosity  was  visible  when 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  SOLDIERS. 


197 


Louis  Napoleon  made  his  appearance.  He  advanced 
toward  Colonel  Vaudrey,  who,  putting  his  hand  on  his 
sword,  exclaimed,  “Soldiers,  a  great  revolution  is  about 
commencing!  You  behold  here  before  you  the  nephew 
of  the  Emperor  Napoleon.  He  comes  to  reconquer 
the  rights  of  the  people  :  the  people  and  the  army  may 
place  full  dependence  upon  him.  It  is  around  him 
that  all  who  love  the  glory  and  the  liberty  of  France 
ought  to  gather  themselves.  Soldiers,  may  the  nephew 
of  the  Emperor  count  upon  you?” 

This  speech  was  received  with  loud  cries  of  “Vive 
Napoleon!  Vive  1’  Empereur!”  When  silence  was 
restored,  Louis  Napoleon  addressed  them  as  follows : 
“Soldiers!  having  resolved  to  conquer  or  to  die  for  the 
liberty  of  the  French  nation,  I  was  anxious  that  yours 
should  be  the  first  regiment  before  which  I  should 
appear,  for  we  are  united  by  strong  ties.  It  was  in 
your  regiment  that  my  uncle,  the  Emperor,  first  served; 
it  was  with  you  that  he  distinguished  himself  at  the 
siege  of  Toulon ;  it  was  your  brave  regiment  that  re¬ 
ceived  him  at  Grenoble,  on  his  return  from  the  island 
of  Elba.  Soldiers!  new  destinies  are  in  store  for  you! 
To  you  the  glory  of  commencing  a  great  enterprise! 
your’s  is  the  honor  of  being  the  first  to  salute  the  eagle 
of  Austerlitz  and  of  Wagram.”  Here  the  Prince  seized 
the  eagle  borne  by  one  of  his  officers,  and,  holding  it 
up  to  the  regiment,  exclaimed,  “This  is  the  symbol  of 
glory;  may  it  be  also  that  of  liberty!  During  fifteen 
years  it  lead  our  fathers  to  victory  ;  during  fifteen 
years  it  glittered  upon  every  battle-field,  it  towered 
above  every  capital  of  continental  Europe.  Soldiers, 
rally  around  this  noble  banner!  I  confide  it  to  your 


198 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


honor  and  to  your  courage.  Let  us  march  together 
against  the  traitors  and  the  oppressors  of  our  country, 
crying,  ‘Vive  la  France!  vive  la  liberte!’” 

This  speech  was  received  with  acclamations.  Many 
of  the  inhabitants,  attracted  by  the  noise,  joined  them¬ 
selves,  in  crowds,  to  the  retinue,  and  mingled  their 
shouts  with  those  of  the  soldiers.  Joy  and  hope 
beamed  on  every  face.  The  first  steps  to  be  taken 
were  the  arrest  of  the  civil  authorities  and  the  general 
in  command  of  the  fortress.  While  some  were  dis¬ 
patched  to  the  residences  of  the  magistrates,  Louis 
Napoleon  proceeded  to  the  quarters  of  general  Voirol. 
Approaching  him,  the  Prince  said  —  “General,  I  come 
to  you  as  a  friend.  I  should  be  much  grieved  to  raise 
our  old  tri-colored  flag,  without  having  the  aid  of  a 
brave  soldier  like  yourself.  The  garrison  is  on  my 
6ide  —  will  you  not  follow  me?”  The  general  declin¬ 
ing  to  join  the  movement,  was  put  under  arrest.  After 
this  the  troops  were  set  in  motion,  but  owing  to  an 
error  were  led  in  a  wrong  direction.  This  created 
much  confusion.  The  officer  intrusted  with  the  distri¬ 
bution  of  the  proclamations,  explanatory  of  the  move¬ 
ment,  had  failed  to  perform  that  duty,  and  it  became 
impossible  to  restore  order,  for  the  people  were  not 
informed  of  the  object  of  the  insurrection,  nor  by  whom 
it  was  conducted.  As  the  Prince  was  about  to  address 
a  large  body  of  troops,  he  was  interrupted  by  a  dis¬ 
turbance  which  arose  at  the  other  extremity  of  the 
regiment.  A  Colonel  Taillandier  had  just  arrived,  and 
on  being  told  -that  the  Emperor’s  nephew  was  there 
with  the  4th  regiment,  he  could  not  believe  such  extra¬ 
ordinary  intelligence,  and  his  surprise  was  so  great 


ARREST  OF  LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 


199 


that  he  preferred  attributing  it  to  a  vulgar  ambition  on 
the  part  of  Colonel  Valid  rey,  rather  than  to  credit 
the  movement  on  behalf  of  the  Prince.  “Soldiers! 
(he  exclaimed,)  you  are  deceived !  the  man  who  ex¬ 
cites  your  enthusiasm  can  only  be  an  adventurer  and 
an  impostor.”  An  officer  of  his  staff  cried  out  at  the 
same  time,  “It  is  not  the  Emperor’s  nephew;  it  is  the 
nephew  of  Colonel  Vaud rey ;  I  know  him.”  Absurd 
as  was  this  announcement,  it  flew  like  lightning  from 
mouth  to  mouth,  and  began  to  change  the  disposition 
of  the  regiment,  which  a  moment  before  had  been  so 
favorable.  Great  numbers  of  the  soldiers,  believing 
themselves  the  dupes  of  an  unworthy  deception,  be¬ 
came  furious.  Colonel  Taillandier  assembled  them, 
and  caused  the  gates  of  the  barrack  yard  to  be  closed ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  officers  devoted  to  the 
Prince  gave  orders  to  have  the  drums  beaten  to  bring 
forward  the  soldiers  who  had  embraced  the  cause  of 
Louis  Napoleon.  The  space  they  occupied  wras  so  con¬ 
fined  that  the  regiments  became,  as  it  were,  confounded 
together,  and  the  tumult  was  frightful.  From  moment 
to  moment  the  confusion  increased,  and  the  officers  of 
the  same  cause  no  longer  recognized  each  other,  as  all 
parties  wore  the  same  uniform.  Muskets  were  charged, 
and  bayonets  and  sabers  flashed  in  the  air,  but  no  blow 
was  struck,  as  each  feared  to  wrnund  a  friend.  In  the 
midst  of  the  confusion  Louis  Napoleon  became  sepa¬ 
rated  from  his  adherents,  and  hurried  into  the  midst  of 
those  who  doubted  his  identity.  There,  after  barely 
escaping  the  bayonets  of  the  indignant  soldiery,  he 
was  arrested.  His  friends,  finding  that  any  further 
resistance  was  useless,  yielded  to  the  same  fate.  In 


200 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  ms  TIMES. 


the  mean  time  the  magistrates  had  been  placed  under 
arrest,  and  the  two  regiments  in  the  other  part  of  the 
town  had  enthusiastically  pronounced  in  favor  of  Louis 
Napoleon,  and  were  proceeding  to  join  him,  when  they 
heard  of  his  arrest.  This  intelligence,  with  the  reports 
which  were  in  circulation  as  to  the  identity  of  Louis 
Napoleon,  prevented  them  from  acting  decisively  in 
his  behalf.  To  still  further  embarrass  and  paralyze  the 
friends  of  the  Prince,  it  was  also  reported  through  all 
parts  of  the  city  that  the  insurrection  was  one  in  favor 
of  the  restoration  of  Charles  X.  —  a  movement  for 
which  they  had  no  sympathy. 

Louis  Napoleon  was  placed  as  a  prisoner  in  the  cita¬ 
del  which,  an  hour  before,  he  had  flattered  himself 
with  the  hope  of  commanding.  General  Yoirol  treated 
him  with  much  kindness.  “Prince,  (said  he,)  when  1 
was  your  prisoner,  I  could  find  none  but  hard  words  to 
use  toward  you  :  now  that  you  are  mine  I  have  none 
but  expressions  of  consolation  to  offer  you.”  But  after¬ 
ward  he  was  treated  with  the  utmost  rigor  by  a  Mon¬ 
sieur  Lebel,  one  of  the  creatures  of  the  king.  The 
Prince  was  not  even  permitted  to  open  his  window,  to 
breathe  the  pure  air,  in  a  prison  that  stood  in  a  circle 
of  loaded  muskets  and  drawn  swords.  But  this  exces¬ 
sive  cruelty  was  of  short  duration,  for  in  a  few  days  he 
was  removed  to  Paris. 

As  Prince  Napoleon  had  every  reason  to  suppose 
that  he  would  be  brought  to  trial  before  the  house  of 
Peers,  he  busied  himself  in  drawing  up  his  defense, 
which  was  found  unfinished  in  his  prison.  It  ran  thus : 

“Gentlemen:  —  I  do  not  intend  to  defend  my  life! 
I  knew  that  I  risked  it  when  I  crossed  the  French 


DEFENSE  OF  LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 


201 


frontier,  but  I  am  anxious  to  defend  my  honor  and  my 
rights.  Yes,  gentlemen,  my  rights! 

“After  the  revolution  of  1S30,  1  requested  per¬ 
mission  to  return  to  France  as  a  private  citizen.  I 
was  repulsed.  I  desired  to  be  allowed  to  serve  as  a 
common  soldier.  No  notice  was  taken  of  this  request. 
I  have  been  treated  as  a  pretender,  ( aspirant )  I  have 
acted  as  one ! 

“Do  not  believe,  however,  that  mine  was  only  the 
paltry  ambition  to  till  a  throne.  I  aspired  to  some¬ 
thing  higher.  I  wished  to  assemble  a  national  Con¬ 
gress,  which,  consulting  the  wishes  of  each  man, 
would  have  made  French  laws,  without  borrowing 
constitutions  that  are  not  suited  to  us,  from  other 
countries.  The  Emperor  accomplished  his  mission ; 
he  prepared  the  nation  for  liberty,  by  introducing  the 
principle  of  equality  in  their  customs,  and  by  making 
merit  the  only  means  of  rising.  Every  government 
that  has  succeeded  that  of  the  Emperor  has  been  ex¬ 
clusive  ;  one  rested  wholly  on  the  nobility  and  clergy, 
another  on  a  louryeoise  aristocracy,  a  third  solely  on 
the  working  classes.  The  government  of  the  Emperor 
rested  on  the  people,  as  a  general  on  his  army.  The 
government  of  Napoleon  received  the  popular  sanction 
four  times.  In  1804,  the  French  nation  recognized 
the  hereditary  rights  of  the  Imperial  family  by  four 
millions  of  votes.  Since  that  period  the  nation  has 
not  been  consulted.  As  the  eldest  of  the  Emperor’s 
nephews,  I  was  justified  in  considering  myself,  not  as 
the  representative  of  the  empire,  (for  within  twenty 
years  many  ideas  have  changed)  but  as  the  representa¬ 
tive  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  nation.  I  have  always 
considered  the  eagle  as  the  emblem  of  the  rights  of 
the  people,  not  of  those  of  a  family. 

“Animated  by  these  ideas,  and  by  the  justice  of  my 
cause,  I  exclaimed,  ‘Those  princes  who  consider  them¬ 
selves  of  the  Right  Divine  can  find  men  to  die  for 
them,  in  order  to  re-establish  abuses  and  privileges  : 
and  must  I,  whose  name  recalls  so  much  glory  and 
liberty,  must  I  die  in  exile?’  ‘No!’  answered  my 
6* 


203 


LOLIS  NAPOLI-ON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


brave  companions  in  misfortune,  ‘we  will  conquer 
together  in  the  cause  of  the  French  nation,  or  perish 
with  you !  ’  Do  not  suppose  that  it  was  my  aim  to 
imitate  the  last  of  the  Homan  emperors,  who  was 
raised  one  day  on  the  bucklers  of  the  soldiery,  and 
overthrown  on  the  next.  I  availed  myself  of  the  aid 
of  the  army  in  attempting  a  revolution,  as  this  mode 
of  action  offered  the  most  chances  of  success  ;  and 
besides,  I  was  anxious  to  avoid  the  confusion  and 
tumult  that  usually  attend  on  social  conflicts.  I  made 
a  great  mistake  in  the  execution  of  my  project,  but  it 
is  little  to  the  honor  of  our  old  soldiers  that  their 
hearts  did  not  bound  at  the  sight  of  the  eagle,  the 
symbol  of  their  past  glory.  They  once  more  be¬ 
held  that  banner  which  they  had  planted  from  the 
Tagus  to  the  Moskwa  —  that  banner  which  they  had 
watered  with  their  blood —  *  *  *  they  beheld  it, 

and  they  trampled  it  beneath  their  feet ! ! !  They  told 
me  of  their  new  oaths,  forgetting  that  it  was  the 
presence  of  one  million  two  hundred  thousand  for¬ 
eigners  which  had  released  them  from  that  they  had 
taken  to  the  Imperial  banner.  A  principle  that  has 
been  annulled  by  force  can  only  be  re-established  by 
force.  I  believed  that  I  had  a  mission  to  fulfill ;  I 
have  acted  accordingly.” 

Contrary  to  general  expectation,  instead  of  bringing 
the  Prince  to  trial,  the  government  secretly  determined 
to  send  him  to  the  United  States.  “On  the  evening  of 
the  ninth  of  November,”  says  Louis  Napoleon,  in  a 
letter  to  his  mother,  “  I  was  informed  that  I  was  to 
be  removed  to  another  place  of  confinement.  On 
leaving  my  room,  I  found  General  Yoirol  and  the 
Prefect  waiting  for  me.  They  led  me  to  the  carriage 
without  telling  me  whither  I  was  to  be  conducted. 
I  insisted  on  remaining  with  my  companions  in  mis¬ 
fortune,  but  I  found  that  the  government  had  decided 
otherwise.  On  reaching  the  hotel  of  the  Prefecture, 


LETTER  TO  IIORTENSE. 


203 


I  saw  two  post-chaises.  I  was  placed  in  one,  with  M. 
Guinat,  the  commander  of  the  military  district  of 
the  Seine,  and  Lieutenant  Thiboulot ;  in  the  other  were 
four  non-commissioned  officers.  I  cannot  describe  the 
pain  I  felt  at  learning  that  I  was  to  be  separated  from 
my  co-accused ;  that  I  was  to  abandon  men  who  had 
risked  their  lives  for  me ;  that  I  was  not  to  be  allowed 
to  explain  my  ideas,  to  defend  my  intentions.  The 
two  officers  who  had  accompanied  me  had  served  in 
the  time  of  the  Empire,  and  were  intimately  ac¬ 
quainted  with  M.  Parquin ;  I  might  have  imagined 
that  I  was  traveling  with  friends.  At  two  o’clock 
on  the  morning  of  the  11th,  we  arrived  at  Paris,  and 
alighted  at  the  Prefecture  of  Police,  where  I  was  most 
kindly  received  by  M.  Delessert.  He  told  me  that  you 
had  come  to  France  to  implore  the  king’s  clemency 
in  my  behalf,  and  that  I  was  to  set  out  in  two  hours 
for  L’ Orient,  from  whence  I  was  to  sail  for  the  United 
States.” 

Before  leaving  Paris,  Louis  Napoleon  was  allowed 
to  write  the  following  letter  to  Queen  Ilortense  : 

“My  Dear  Mother:  —  Your  tenderness  is  proved 
by  the  step  you  have  taken.  You  thought  only  of 
the  danger  in  which  I  was  placed,  and  not  of  my 
honor,  which  compelled  me  to  share  the  fate  of  my 
companions  in  misfortune.  It  gives  me  the  greatest 
pain  to  be  obliged  to  abandon  men  whom  I  have  led 
to  ruin,  when  my  presence  and  my  testimony  might 
have  influenced  the  jury  in  their  favor.  I  have 
written  to  the  king  to  entreat  him  to  show  mercy 
to  them  ;  it  is  the  only  favor  I  ask.  I  am  about  leav¬ 
ing  France  for  America,  but,  my  dear  mother,  if  you 
do  not  wish  to  increase  my  affliction,  do  not  follow  me, 
I  entreat  you. 


204 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


“Will  you  see  that  the  prisoners  of  Strasbourg  are 
in  want  of  nothing.  Take  care  of  the  sons  of  Colonel 
Vaudrev,  who  are  at  Paris,  with  their  mother.  I 
should  be  resigned  to  my  fate  if  I  knew  that  the  lives 
of  my  companions  would  be  spared  ;  but  to  feel  that  I 
had  been  the'  cause  of  the  death  of  those  brave  men 
would  give  me  everlasting  pain. 

“Farewell,  dearest  mother.  Return  to  Arenemberg. 
Do  not  attempt  to  join  me  in  America  ;  it  would  make 
me  too  unhappy.  Farewell.” 

The  Prince  was  so  anxious  about  the  men  from 
whom  he  had  been  separated,  that,  previous  to  his  de¬ 
parture,  he  wrote  to  several  other  persons  concerning 
them.  One  of  his  letters  was  quoted,  at  the  trial  of 
the  prisoners  of  Strasbourg,  by  their  counsel,  who 
exclaimed — “Do  you  think  it  proper,  do  you  think  it 
generous,  thus  to  expatiate  on  the  faults  of  the  Prince 
in  his  absence.  If,  by  means  of  the  press,  the  singular 
language  you  have  held  should  reach  his  ear,  would  he 
not  have  cause  to  complain  ;  would  he  not  exclaim : 
‘  Your  government  would  not  allow  me  to  appear  be¬ 
fore  its  tribunals ;  and  now  that,  contrary  to  my 
wishes,  I  have  submitted  to  its  orders,  now  that  I 
have  left  my  country,  the  instruments  of  the  law  are 
allowed  to  calumniate  me.  It  is  the  object  of  the 
government  to  ruin  me  in  the  opinion  of  the  French, 
whose  confidence  and  esteem  are  to  me  invaluable. 
Let  such  clemency  be  revoked !  I  will  not  accept  it 
at  such  a  price.  Death  is  a  thousand  times  preferable 
to  life  with  dishonor.’  "What  generous  mind  could 
misunderstand  this  noble  language?  I  am  happy  in 
being  able  to  give  France  a  more  favorable  opinion  of 
Louis  Napoleon.  He  was  suddenly  removed  from 


LETTER  TO  HIS  COUNSEL. 


205 


prison.  He  was  taken  to  Paris,  where  he  was  allowed 
to  pass  a  couple  of  hours  to  rest,  after  the  fatigues  of 
the  journey,  and  to  prepare  for  a  long  voyage.  IIow 
did  the  noble  young  man  employ  the  time  thus  allotted 
him  ?  He  could  not  forget  that  he  had  left  his  com¬ 
panions  under  the  weight  of  a  terrible  accusation.  He 
began  a  letter  dated  Paris,  November  11th,  but  he 
had  not  time  to  conclude  it  immediately.  The  latter 
part  of  the  letter  bears  the  date  of  L’ Orient,  Novem¬ 
ber  15th,  for  he  would  not  put  his  foot  on  board  the 
vessel,  which  was  to  take  him  far  from  France,  with¬ 
out  having  done  all  he  could  to  defend  those  who 
had  compromised  themselves  for  him.  This  letter, 
addressed  to  Odillon  Parrot,  ran  thus  : 

“Sir: — Notwithstanding  my  desire  to  remain  with 
my  companions  in  misfortune,  and  to  share  their  fate ; 
notwithstanding  my  protestations  on  this  subject, 
the  king,  from  a  kindly  motive,  doubtless,  has  or¬ 
dered  that  1  should  be  taken  to  L’  Orient,  and  from 
thence  to  the  United  States.  Although  much  touched 
by  the  king’s  generosity,  I  am  deeply  afflicted  at 
leaving  my  companions,  for  I  believe  that  my  presence 
at  the  bar,  and  my  testimony  would  have  influenced 
the  jury  in  their  favor,  and  shed  light  on  many  im¬ 
portant  circumstances.  As  I  am  deprived  of  the 
consolation  of  being  useful  to  the  men  of  whose  ruin  I 
am  the  cause,  I  must  confide  to  a  lawyer  what  I  am 
not  allowed  to  tell  the  jury.  We  are  all  guilty  for 
having  taken  up  arms  against  the  government,  but  I 
am  the  most  so,  for  I  had  long  meditated  effecting  a 
revolution;  I  snatched  my  companions  from  an  honor¬ 
able  position  in  society,  and  induced  them  to  risk  all 
the  dangers  that  must  always  attend  a  popular  com¬ 
motion.  I  seduced  them  by  speaking  to  them  of  all 
that  was  most  likely  to  move  the  heart  of  French¬ 
men.  They  told  me  of  their  oaths.  I  reminded  them 


206 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


that  in  1815  they  had  sworn  fidelity  to  Napoleun  IL 
and  his  dynasty. 

“The  government  has  acted  generously  toward  me. 
It  has  considered  that  my  being  an  exile,  my  love  for 
France,  and  my  relationship  to  the  Emperor,  were 
excuses  for  me. 

“Can  the  jury  do  otherwise  than  follow  the  road 
pointed  out  by  the  government  ?  ” 

On  the  21st  of  November,  Louis  Napoleon  em¬ 
barked  on  the  frigate  which  was  to  bear  him  to  the 
American  continent.  The  captain  had  sealed  orders  to 
sail  first  to  Rio  de  Janeiro,  and  afterward  to  proceed 
to  New  York.  The  voyage  occupied  five  months,  and 
the  Prince  did  not  arrive  in  New  York  until  toward 
the  end  of  April,  1837.  During  the  voyage  he  wrote 
many  letters  to  his  mother,  in  one  of  which  (dated 
December  14,  1836)  the  following  passage  occurs  : 

“  Two  months  ago  I  wished  for  nothing  except  never 
again  to  behold  Switzerland  ;  now,  if  I  were  to  follow 
my  own  inclinations,  I  should  have  no  other  wish  than 
to  find  myself  again  in  my  little  chamber  in  the  midst 
of  that  fine  country,  in  which  I  fancy  I  ought  to  be 
so  happy!  Alas!  when  one  has  a  soul  that  feels 
deeply,  one  is  destined  to  pass  one’s  days  oppressed 
with  the  sense  of  inactivity,  or  in  the  struggles  of 
painful  sensations.  When  some  months  ago  I  went  to 
bring  home  Matilda,  on  re-entering  the  park  I  found  a 
tree  which  had  been  blown  down  by  the  tempest,  and 
I  said  to  myself,  our  marriage  will  be  broken  off  by 
fate.  That  which  I  vaguely  guessed  has  become  real¬ 
ized.  Have  I  then  exhausted  all  the  happiness  which 
was  destined  for  me?” 

The  lady  to  whom  the  Prince  makes  the  above  allu¬ 
sion,  was  the  daughter  of  Jerome  Bonaparte,  and  was  af¬ 
terward  married  to  a  Russian  prince.  Her  extraordin¬ 
ary  beauty,  her  manifold  graces  and  accomplishments 


ANOTHER  REVOLUTIONARY  PLOT. 


207 


fully  justified  the  choice  which  Louis  Napoleon  had 
made.  She  was  rather  small,  but  perfectly  formed. 
Her  head  was  beautifully  shaped,  and  thrown  into  fine 
relief  by  her  luxuriant  brown  hair.  Her  eyes  were 
large  and  sparkling,  and  the  features  classically  regu¬ 
lar.  The  expression  of  her  face  was  most  captivating, 
and  revealed  an  elevation  of  character  that  charmed 
at  first  sight.  Her  manners  were  full  of  spirit  and 
elegance.  Her  voice  was  clear  and  ringing.  She 
conversed  with  great  fluency  and  vivacity,  and  her 
language  was  well  chosen  and  pointed.  When  she 
subsequently  took  up  her  residence  at  Paris,  she 
became  a  great  favorite  in  fashionable  society. 

It  happened  by  a  singular  coincidence,  that  on  the 
same  day  Louis  Napoleon  made  his  attempt  at  Stras¬ 
bourg,  some  soldiers  of  a  hussar  regiment,  at  Vendome, 
were  forming  the  plan  of  a  mutiny,  the  object  of 
which  was  to  proclaim  a  republic.  The  plot,  de¬ 
nounced  before  the  hour  appointed  for  its  execution, 
was  easily  stifled.  It  had  been  conceived  by  a  brigadier 
named  Bruyant,  a  resolute  man,  and  one  of  no  com¬ 
mon  stamp.  Being  arrested,  he  escaped  from  his 
guards,  and  swam  across  the  Loire.  But  his  accom¬ 
plices  not  having  been  able  to  imitate  his  example,  he 
was  unwilling  to  escape  the  fate  that  awaited  them,  and 
returned  and  surrendered  himself  a  prisoner. 

The  government  of  Louis  Philippe  was  in  consterna¬ 
tion.  A  long  series  of  conspiracies,  riots  and  disorders 
had  occurred,  in  which  the  unpopularity  and  weakness 
of  the  king  were  displayed  in  a  glaring  and  dangerous 
manner.  Every  device  was  put  in  practice  to  cloak 
the  important  nature  of  the  events.  The  ministerial 


208 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


journals  sneered  at  the  puerility  of  Louis  Napoleon's 
enterprise,  which  they  called  a  mere  hair-brained  freak, 
the  agents  of  the  government  received  orders  to  over¬ 
look  a  large  number  of  the  guilty ;  the  authorities  re¬ 
ported  that  only  a  small  number  of  soldiers  had  taken 
part  in  the  movement,  and  only  three  subordinate  offi¬ 
cers  were  deprived  of  their  commissions  ;  General 
Voirol  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of  a  peer  of  France, 
and  thanks  were  given  to  the  garrison  at  Strasbourg 
for  its  fidelity  to  the  dynasty  of  Louis  Philippe! 

The  accomplices  of  Louis  Napoleon  were  brought  to 
trial  while  he  was  on  his  voyage  to  the  United  States. 
Seven  only  appeared  —  Colonel  Vaudrey,  Parquin,  De 
Bruc,  Laity,  De  Querelles,  De  Gricourt,  and  Madame 
Gordon.  The  trial  was  one  of  extraordinary  interest. 
The  rank  of  the  accused,  most  of  them  being  military 
men  ;  the  glorious  past  days  of  some  ;  the  youth  and 
spirit  of  the  others ;  the  ardent  sympathy  in  favor  of 
the  revolt  —  all  conspired  to  render  the  spectacle  im¬ 
pressive.  The  demeanor  of  the  prisoners  corresponded 
with  the  interest  they  excited.  Parquin  expressed 
freely  the  attachment  he  bore  to  the  memory  of  the 
Emperor  and  to  his  family.  Madame  Gordon  was  en¬ 
dowed  with  so  much  beauty  and  fiery  eloquence  that 
she  won  the  sympathy  of  all.  Querelles,  De  Gricourt 
and  De  Bruc  sustained  their  examination  almost  with 
exultation.  Colonel  Yaudrey  maintained  a  firmness 
and  dignity  becoming  his  high  reputation.  But  none 
of  the  prisoners  excited  stronger  interest  than  Lieuten¬ 
ant  Laity.  His  countenance  was  serious  and  earnest. 
In  throwing  himself  into  an  enterprise  in  which  there 
was  nothing  but  danger  on  all  hands,  he  had  felt  that 


TRIAL  OF  THE  PRISONERS  AT  STRASBOURG.  209 

he  had  given  pledges  to  death.  Beaten,  he  refused  to 

defend  himself,  and  was  only  prevailed  on  to  do  so  by 

beino-  informed  how  far  such  a  determination  was  es- 
© 

sential  to  the  safety  of  his  companions  in  misfortune. 
In  the  presence  of  the  judges  he  was  calm  and  indom¬ 
itable  :  he  expressed  himself  nobly,  without  art  or 
effort,  and  concisely  like  a  soldier.  “I  am  a  republi¬ 
can,  (said  he,)  and  I  followed  Louis  Napoleon  only  be¬ 
cause  I  found  in  him  democratic  opinions.”  The  depo¬ 
sitions  of  the  witnesses  gave  occasion  to  various  inci¬ 
dents  that  added  to  the  impression  produced  by  the 
whole  affair.  Colonel  Talliandier  having  related,  that 
in  arresting  Commandant  Parquin,  he  had  torn  off  his 
general’s  epaulettes,  the  latter  replied  —  “  It  is  very  true 
that  he  insulted  me,  and  he  could  do  so  with  impunity: 
I  was  his  prisoner.” 

In  the  city  the  excitement  was  continually  increas¬ 
ing.  The  whole  town  rung  with  loudly  expressed 
wishes  for  the  acquittal  of  the  prisoners.  The  senti¬ 
ments  of  Lieutenant  Laity  were  vociferously  applauded. 
The  republicans  were  eager  to  have  the  authority  of 
the  reigning  king  weakened  —  others  desired  merely 
the  humiliation  and  defeat  of  the  ministry.  But  all 
agreed  in  masking  the  real  ground  of  their  desire  for 
an  acquittal,  by  appealing  to  the  principle  of  equity. 
It  was  in  justice,  they  argued,  to  punish  the  accomplices 
of  the  Prince  when  he  had  been  sent  beyond  the  reach 
of  punishment.  At  every  step  the  jurors  encountered 
symptoms  and  expressions  of  feeling  that  could  not  but 
have  a  contagious  effect  upon  them.  And  when,  on 
the  18th  of  January,  1837,  the  verdict  of  acquittal  was 
rendered,  the  building  was  filled  with  shouts  of 


210 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


exultation.  The  same  enthusiasm  prevailed  in  tl 
streets.  The  city  of  Strasbourg  put  on  the  appearance  o; 
a  holiday,  and  a  sumptuous  banquet  was  given  to  tne 
released  prisoners.  The  issue  of  the  prosecution  struct 
the  government  with  consternation.  Louis  Philippe  was 
particularly  mortified  by  it.  The  evidence  of  conspira¬ 
cies  and  of  implacable  animosity  which  confronted 
him,  and  which  put  his  life  and  his  throne  in  hourly 
peril,  rendered  his  position  far  from  enviable. 

When  Louis  Napoleon  was  sent  to  the  United  States, 
instead  of  being  tried  for  high  treason,  it  was  generally- 
believed  that  it  was  done  upon  his  pledge  not  to  return 
to  Europe  within  ten  years.  That  Louis  Philippe 
should  have  been  at  the  expense  of  sending  him 
away  —  to  say  nothing  of  this  exercise  of  clemency— 
without  such  a  guarantee,  either  written  or  verbal,  it  is 
difficult  to  believe.  The  fact  that  his  mother  went  to 
Paris  to  intercede  for  him  would  lead  to  the  belief  that 
some  conditions  must  have  been  attached  to  his  par¬ 
don.  His  letter  to  his  mother  on  his  departure  clearly 
intimates  his  expectation  of  a  long  absence,  and  for  a 
considerable  time  after  his  arrival  in  the  United  States, 
he  had  no  thought  of  returning  to  the  old  world.  He 
was  actually  making  preparations  for  an  extended  tour 
through  the  Western  States,  when  he  received  the  fol¬ 
lowing  letter  from  his  mother,  announcing  her  dan¬ 
gerous  illness,  and  the  prospect  of  her  speedy  death. 

“My  Dear  Son,  —  I  am  about  to  undergo  an  opera¬ 
tion  which  has  become  absolutely  necessary.  In  case 
it  should  not  terminate  successfully,  I  send  you,  in  this 
letter,  my  blessing.  We  shall  meet  again  —  shall  we 
not?  —  in  a  better  world,  where,  I  trust,  you  will  come 
at  the  end  of  a  long  life  to  rejoin  me.  Believe  me  that 


DKATn-BEO  OF  HORTENSE. 


211 


in  quitting  this  world  I  leave  nothing  to  regret  except 
you,  and  your  tender  affection,  which  has  alone  given 
it  any  charms.  It  will  be  a  consolation  to  you,  my 
dear  son,  to  remember  that  by  your  attentions  you 
have  rendered  your  mother  as  happy  as  her  circum¬ 
stances  would  permit.  You  will  think  of  all  my  affec¬ 
tion  for  you  and  take  courage.  Believe  that  the  dead 
always  have  an  interest  in  what  they  leave  below,  and 
that,  assuredly,  we  shall  all  meet  again.  Dwell  on  this 
delightful  thought :  it  is  too  necessary  not  to  be  true. 
I  press  you  to  my  heart,  my  dear  child.  I  am  per¬ 
fectly  calm,  and  entirely  resigned:  still,  I  hope  we  may 
meet  again  in  this  world.  May  God’s  will  be  done. 

“  Your  affectionate  mother, 

“IIortense. 

"April  3d,  1837.” 

It  is  deserving  of  remark,  that  in  this  letter,  Ilor- 
tense  makes  no  allusion  to  her  son’s  return,  as  a  step 
which  he  was  at  liberty  to  undertake  —  a  step  for 
which,  as  a  mother,  she  would  naturally  feel  anxious, 
if  it  could  be  taken  without  dishonor  or  danger.  But 
on  hearing  of  the  illness  of  his  mother,  Louis  Napoleon 
immediately  embarked  for  London,  and  from  thence 
went  to  Switzerland  in  time  to  receive  the  last  embrace 
and  blessing  of  his  dying  mother.  A  few  moments 
before  she  expired,  Queen  Hortense  stretched  out  her 
hand  to  each  of  the  persons  of  her  household  :  they 
were  overwhelmed  with  sorrow,  while  shfe  was  calm 
and  resigned.  At  the  foot  of  her  -bed  her  son  was  on 
his  knees.  Dr.  Conneau,  who  had  long  been  attached 
to  her  person,  and  whose  tender  and  assiduous  care 
had  prolonged  her  life,  and  alleviated  her  sufferings, 
watched  anxiously  the  ebbing  breath  of  his  illustrious 
and  unfortunate  patient.  Profound  silence  reigned  in 
the  chamber  in  which  death  was  present.  The  queen 
turned  slowly  toward  her  son  and  the  doctor,  and  said, 


212 


LOUIS  NATOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIJLES. 


with  a  feeble  voice,  “You  are  very  unfortunate,  my 
children!  farewell,  Louis !  farewell!”  Her  son  threw 
himself  into  her  arms ;  she  pressed  him  to  her  heart, 
with  a  supernatural  strength,  and  again,  with  fearful 
vehemence,  uttered  a  final  “  Adieu,  adieu ,  adieu  .” 
She  fell  back  exhausted  ;  her  noble  figure  resumed  an 
angelic  serenity,  and  her  eyelids  closed.  Her  son 
hung  over  her ;  and,  with  a  voice  which  he  in  vain 
attempted  to  render  calm,  said,  “Mother,  do  you  know 
me?  It  is  your  son!  —  your  Louis! — my  mother!” 
She  made  an  effort  to  speak,  and  to  open  her  eyes;  but 
her  hands  were  already  cold,  and  her  eyelids  paralyzed, 
and  she  could  only  make  a  feeble,  almost  impercep¬ 
tible,  movement  to  this  earnest  appeal.  Her  natural 
tenderness,  so  true  and  so  exalted,  had  already  con¬ 
veyed  to  her  half-expiring  heart  the  voice  of  her  son. 
A  feeble  motion  of  the  hand  which  he  held  assured 
him  of  the  fact,  and  in  an  instant  after,  the  last  sigh  of 
his  mother  sounded  upon  his  ears.  She  died  on  the 
5th  of  October,  1837.  Death  gave  her  a  tomb  in  her 
native  land.  Her  remains  were  deposited  in  the  vil¬ 
lage  church  at  Ruel,  by  the  side  of  those  of  her  mother, 
the  Empress  Josephine,  that  noble  woman,  who  was 
neither  elated  by  the  grandeur  of  the  imperial  throne, 
nor  depressed,  when,  by  an  iniquitous  political  divorce, 
she  was  compelled  to  descend  from  it. 

By  her  will,  executed  on  the  3d  of  April,  1837, 
Queen  Ilortense — as  she  continued  to  be  called  long 
after  she  ceased  to  reign  —  bequeathed  various  legacies 
to  friends  and  persons  about  her  establishment,  leav¬ 
ing,  of  course,  the  bulk  of  her  property  to  her  son.  It 
concludes  as  follows :  “  I  wish  that  my  husband  may 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AT  ARENEMBEKG.  213 

erect  some  memorial  to  my  memory,  and  that  he 
should  know  that  my  greatest  regret  was  that  I  could 
not  render  him  happy.  I  have  no  political  advice  to 
give  my  son  ;  I  know  that  he  is  aware  of  his  position, 
and  of  all  the  duties  which  his  name  imposes  upon 
him.  I  forgive  all  sovereigns  with  whom  I  have  had 
relations  of  friendship,  their  injustice  toward  me.  I 
forgive  all  persons  for  the  falsity  of  the  reports  which 
they  have  constantly  circulated  about  me.  I  forgive 
certain  Frenchmen,  to  whom  I  have  had  opportunities 
of  being  useful,  for  the  calumnies  with  which  they 
have  loaded  me  by  way  of  requital.  I  forgive  those 
who  have  believed  these  statements  without  investiga¬ 
ting  them,  and  I  hope  to  survive  for  a  little  while  in  the 
memory  of  my  fellow  countrymen.  I  thank  all  those 
who  are  around  me,  as  also  my  servants,  for  their 
attention,  and  I  hope  they  will  not  forget  my  memory.” 

After  the  death  of  his  mother,  Louis  Napoleon  con¬ 
tinued  to  reside  at  Arenemberg,  where  he  seemed  for 
a  time  to  confine  himself  to  the  study  of  military  tac¬ 
tics  and  political  economy.  But  in  1838  he  induced 
Lieutenant  Laity,  who  had  been  involved  in  the  Stras¬ 
bourg  affair,  to  write  a  pamphlet  justifying  the  attempt 
which  was  then  made  to  subvert  the  throne  of  Louis 
Philippe.  His  publication  was  looked  upon  by  the 
government  as  the  manifestation  of  a  new  conspiracy, 
and  the  luckless  lieutenant  was  arrested.  When  he 
was  upon  the  eve  of  his  trial,  Louis  Napoleon  wrote 
him  a  letter  of  condolence,  so  injudiciously  expressed, 
that  it  could  not  but  aggravate  the  case  of  the  person 
in  whose  possession  it  should  be  found.  In  that  letter 
Louis  Napoleon  declared  that  he  had  partizans  every 


214  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

where  in  France,  from  the  workshop  of  the  artizan  to 
the  council-chamber  of  the  king.  He  closed  by  say¬ 
ing —  “But  if  one  day  the  movement  of  parties  should 
overthrow  the  existing  powers,  (and  the  experience  of 
the  last  fifty  years  authorizes  the  belief,)  and  if,  accus¬ 
tomed,  as  they  have  been  for  the  last  twenty-three 
years,  to  despise  authority,  they  should  undermine  all 
the  foundations  of  the  social  edifice,  —  then,  perhaps, 
the  name  of  Napoleon,  may  prove  an  anchor  of  safety 
for  all  that  is  noble  and  truly  patriotic  in  France.” 
This  indiscreet  letter  aided  in  the  condemnation  of 
Laity  to  five  years  imprisonment. 

The  French  government,  to  whom  the  presence  of 
Louis  Napoleon  in  Switzerland  occasioned  great  unea¬ 
siness,  required  his  expulsion  from  the  country.  This 
being  refused,  a  considerable  army  was  sent  toward  the 
Swiss  frontier,  to  enforce  compliance.  The  Swiss,  on 
their  part,  made  preparations  for  resistance,  and  for 
the  defense  of  their  territory.  A  painful  and  unequal 
conflict  was  in  prospect,  when  the  Prince  prudently 
put  an  end  to  further  trouble  by  voluntarily  withdraw¬ 
ing  from  Switzerland.  The  following  passages  occur 
in  his  communication  to  the  government  announcing 
his  determination : 

“  A  month  ago,  Switzerland,  by  her  energetic  pro¬ 
tests,  and  now  by  the  decision  of  her  great  councils,  at 
this  time  assembled,  has  shown  that  she  was  and  is  ready 
to  make  the  greatest  sacrifice  for  the  maintenance  of 
her  dignity  and  rights.  She  has  done  her  duty  as  an 
independent  nation  :  I  know  how  to  do  mine,  and  to 
remain  faithful  to  the  voice  of  honor.  I  may  be  perse¬ 
cuted,  but  never  degraded.  The  French  government, 
having  declared  that  the  refusal  of  the  Diet  to  yield 
to  its  demands  would  be  the  signal  of  a  conflagration, 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  IN  ENGLAND. 


215 


of  which  Switzerland  would  become  the  victim  ;  I 
have  no  alternative  but  to  quit  a  country,  when  my 
presence  is  made  the  cause  of  such  unjust  preten¬ 
sions,  and  would  be  made  the  excuse  for  such  great 
misfortunes. 

“In  quitting,  voluntarily,  for  the  present,  the  only 
country  in  Europe  where  I  have  met  with  support  and 
protection,  and  which  has  now  become  dear  to  me  for 
so  many  reasons,  I  hope  to  prove  to  the  Swiss  people, 
that  1  was  worthy  of  those  marks  of  esteem  and  affec¬ 
tion  which  they  have  lavished  upon  me.  1  hope  this 
separation  wi-11  not  be  perpetual,  and  that  a  day  will 
come,  when,  without  compromising  the  interests  of  twro 
nations,  which  ought  to  remain  friends,  I  shall  be  able 
to  return  to  an  asylum  which  twenty  years  residence 
and  acquired  rights  have  made,  as  it  were,  a  second 
father-land.” 

Louis  Napoleon  then  sought  refuge  in  England,  and 
remained  in  London  from  the  end  of  the  year  1838, 
until  the  month  of  August,  1840.  During  this  period, 
it  is  said,  many  of  his  days  and  nights  were  spent  on 
the  race-course,  in  gambling  houses,  or  other  equally 
disreputable  places  of  resort,  and  that  often  his  inti¬ 
mates  were  among  the  least  honorable  members  of  the 
“gay”  world.  Meanwhile  it  is  asserted  that  be  was 
in  the  habit  of  frequently  boasting,  in  the  presence  of 
Englishmen,  that  he  would  some  day  be  Emperor  of 
France,  and  that  then  the  first  thing  he  should  do 
would  be  to  invade  England.  “I  like  you  very  well 
as  a  people,  (said  he,)  but  I  must  wipe  out  Waterloo 
and  St.  Helena!” 

While  Louis  Napoleon  was  making  his  daring  at¬ 
tempt  to  restore  the  dynasty  of  the  Emperor,  Charles 
X.,  who  had  beeu  driven  into  exile  to  give  place  on  the 
throne  of  France  for  Louis  Philippe,  was  dying  in  a 
small  town  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  Austrian  empire. 


216 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


For  six  years  lie  liad  resided,  as  an  exile,  in  England, 
in  Prussia,  in  Bohemia,  and  at  Prague.  In  1836,  he 
removed  to  Goritz,  in  Styria,  one  of  the  Austrian 
provinces.  The  winter  was  excessively  severe,  and  the 
rigor  of  the  climate  seriously  affected  his  already  im¬ 
paired  health.  He  was  the  prey  of  a  profound  mel¬ 
ancholy,  and  the  subject  of  death  was  frequently 
mentioned  by  him.  “The  day  is  not  far  distant,  (he 
said,)  that  shall  witness  the  funeral  of  the  poor  old 
man.”  On  the  morning  of  November  4,  1836,  St. 
Charles’  day,  he  was  seized  with  a  chill  during  the 
celebration  of  mass ;  and,  in  the  evening,  wdien  he  en¬ 
tered  the  saloon,  where  the  members  of  his  family  were 
assembled,  with  a  few  who  comprised  his  court,  they 
were  filled  with  dismay  by  his  aspect.  His  features 
were  strangely  contracted ;  his  voice  was  dismally 
sonorous ;  it  could  no  longer  be  doubted  that  death 
was  upon  him.  In  the  night  his  friends  were  called 
around  the  bedside  of  the  dying  monarch.  He  awaited 
with  tranquillity  the  momentous  change  which  was 
about  to  take  place,  and  conversed  calmly  on  the  things 
of  eternity  with  the  Bishop  of  Hermopolis,  who  was 
present  to  cheer  and  comfort  him  in  his  agony.  His 
family  knelt  down  to  receive  his  dying  blessing.  Lay¬ 
ing  his  hands  on  their  heads,  he  said  —  “God  protect 
you,  my  children!  Walk  in  the  ways  of  righteousness. 
Do  not  forget  me,  and  pray  often  for  me !”  In  the 
night  of  the  5th  of  November,  he  fell  into  a  deep  leth¬ 
argy7-,  a  slight  motion  of  the  lips  alone  showing  that  he 
still  lived.  Early  on  the  morning  of  the  6th,  all  pres¬ 
ent  fell  on  their  knees,  and  agonizing  sobs  burst  from 
their  lips.  Charles  X.  was  dead.  Five  days  afterward 


DEATH  OF  THE  DUKE  D  ANG0ULE1TE. 


217 


Lis  corpse  was  carried  to  the  Franciscan  convent, 
situated  on  a  height  at  a  little  distance  from  the  town. 
There,  in  an  ordinary  sepulcher,  by  the  feeble  light  of 
a  lamp,  his  friends  were  permitted,  for  the  last  time,  to 
look  upon  the  pale  features  of  the  fallen  monarch.  He 
had  died  at  the  advanced  age  of  seventy-nine  years. 
All  the  reigning  houses  of  Europe  put  on  the  mourning 
prescribed  by  etiquette,  one  alone  excepted — that  of 
his  relation,  Louis  Philippe ! 

The  Duke  d’  Angouleme,  (son  of  Charles  X.,)  who, 
after  the  death  of  his  father,  was  called  King  of  France, 
by  the' adherents  of. the  Bourbons,  died  ALiy  4,  1844, 
at  Goritz.  Ilis  death  produced  no  other  effect  than  to 
fix  the  eyes  of  the  Bourbonists  more  distinctly  upon 
the  Duke  of  Bordeaux,  his  nephew,  and  son  of  the 
Duchess  de  Berri,  who  was  thereafter  called  Henry  Y. 
He  was  a  harmless  character,  of  no  marked  talent,  and 
of  no  decided  propensities.  During  the  government 
of  Charles  X.  he  was  contented  with  doing  what  he 
was  bid — at  the  Revolution  of  1830  he  was  contented 
with  doing  nothing  —  and  during  his  exile  he  was 
contented  with  being  nothing.  Though  exiled  he  could 
scarcely  be  called  unfortunate.  He  had  the  means  of 
existence  without  the  trouble  of  exertion  —  he  had  the 
name  of  a  prince  without  its  responsibilities  —  and  he 
had  the  title  of  a  king,  without  its  labors,  its  duties,  or 
its  cares. 

The  Emperor  Xapoleon,  while  at  St.  Helena,  had 
often  expressed  an  ardent  desire  to  be  buried  in  France. 
This  wish  was  solemnly  and  pathetically  repeated  in 
his  will.  “It  is  my  wish,  (said  he,  after  making  his 
numerous  bequests,)  that  my  ashes  may  repose  on  the 

10 


218 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


banks  of  the  Seine,  in  the  midst  of  the  French  people 
whom  I  loved  so  well.”  The  predecessors  of  Louis 
Philippe  had  refused  to  request  of  the  British  govern¬ 
ment  permission  to  remove  the  remains  of  Napoleon 
from  their  island  tomb,  for  interment  in  France.  The 
popular  feeling  on  the  subject  had  grown  so  strong  in 
1840,  that  Louis  Philippe  considered  it  politic  to  yield 
to  the  national  wish,  and  accordingly  his  son,  Prince 
of  Joinville,  was  dispatched  to  St.  Helena  to  perform 
the  office  of  restoring  the  ashes  of  the  Emperor  to  the 
soil  of  France.  When  the  stirring  announcement  rung 
in  the  ears  of  the  French,  that  the  venerated  remains  of 
Napoleon  were  on  the  sea,  wafted  by  every  breeze  still 
nearer  to  his  idolized  France,  there  was  an  upheaving 
of  the  popular  heart  which  cannot  be  described  or  even 
appreciated  by  a  foreigner.  The  energy  and  warmth 
of  the  emotions  aroused  by  this  intelligence  attested  the 
fidelity  of  the  French  heart  to  the  memory  of  the  Em¬ 
peror.  It  was  an  event  highly  favorable  to  the  views 
of  the  partisans  of  Louis  Napoleon,  and  they  urged 
him  to  undertake  another  expedition  for  the  overthrow 
of  Louis  Philippe.  “  Is  it  fitting,”  it  was  asked,  in 
the  passionate  language  of  many  of  the  old  followers 
of  the  Emperor,  “is  it  fitting  that  the  corpse  of  Na¬ 
poleon  should  be  insulted  by  the  presence  of  the 
Bourbon  family,  which  united  with  Europe  in  chaining 
him  alive  to  the  rock  of  St.  Helena ;  which  vindic¬ 
tively  condemned  to  death  his  greatest  marshals  ;  and 
still  pursues  his  nearest  relatives  in  ignominious  exile? 
Is  it  becoming,”  they  persisted,  “that  his  revered  ashes 
should  be  touched  by  the  profane  hands  of  his  ene¬ 
mies,  when,  as  a  duty  and  a  right,  they  should  be 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AT  BOULOGNE. 


219 


delivered  up  to  the  pious  care  of  his  relatives,  for 
those  imposing  ceremonies  which  the  whole  nation  will 
stand  by  in  solemn  grief  to  witness?”  In  compliance 
with  these  requests,  and  the  promptings  of  his  own 
restless  and  ambitious  heart,  Louis  Napoleon  deter¬ 
mined  on  a  second  invasion  of  France.  The  regiment 
that  had  declared  in  his  favor  at  Strasbourg  was  then 
stationed  in  the  neighborhood  of  Boulogne,  and  accord¬ 
ingly,  at  the  latter  place  it  was  determined  to  under¬ 
take  the  Revolution.  Hiring  a  steamer,  he  started, 
with  sixty  followers,  for  the  coast  of  France. 

There  were  hut  two  companies  of  infantry  quartered 
at  Boulogne,  and  it  was  soon  ascertained  that  they 
would  zealously  join  the  Prince.  A  captain,  of  one  of 
these  companies,  however,  who  had  received  some 
favors  from  the  king,  adhered  to  his  allegiance,  and 
obstinately  refused  all  the  advances  made  to  him.  It 
was  then  decided  to  have  him  removed  to  some  other 
point,  and  a  short  delay  ensued  in  order  to  accomplish 
this.  Orders  were  finally  issued,  transferring  him  to 
another  command,  and  the  day  for  his  departure 
named.  Some  accident  prevented  his  going,  which 
event  proved  fatal  to  the  enterprise  of  Louis  Napoleon. 
On  the  6th  of  August,  1840,  the  day  following  the 
supposed  departure  of  the  loyal  captain,  the  Prince 
landed  with  his  suite  at  sunrise  just  below  the  town, 
and  repaired  instantly  to  the  barracks.  His  arrival 
was  no  sooner  announced  than  every  soldier  rushed 
into  the  court-yard,  giving  the  wildest  expression  to 
his  enthusiasm.  They  mounted  the  Prince  on  their 
shoulders,  and  bore  him  about  in  triumph.  Anxious 
to  lose  not  a  moment  in  escaping  from  Boulogne  on 


220 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


his  road  to  St.  Omer,  where  the  garrison  awaited  him, 
Louis  Napoleon  endeavored  to  establish  order,  and 
addressing  a  few  stirring  words  to  the  troops,  he  bade 
them  follow  him.  Brandishing  their  arms,  and  ut¬ 
tering  the  most  passionate  cries  of  devotion,  they 
obeyed  his  summons,  and  dashed  toward  the  portal  of 
the  barracks.  Here  the  whole  movement  was  checked 
by  the  unexpected  apparition  of  the  afore-mentioned 
officer,  who  had  hastened  to  the  barracks  on  hearing  of 
the  event.  His  soldiers  quailed  at  the  sight  of  him, 
and,  drawing  his  sword,  he  began  a  spirited  harangue. 
The  moment  was  critical  in  the  extreme.  Every  min¬ 
ute’s  delay  was  attended  with  imminent  danger.  The 
partisans  of  the  government  were  actively  at  work 
assembling  the  National  Guard,  which  the  small  force 
on  the  side  of  the  sedition  was  in  no  wise  adequate  to 
meet.  Advancing  impetuously  towTard  the  sole  object 
in  his  path,  the  Prince  addressed  the  contumacious 
captain  in  strong  terms  of  remonstrance  ;  words  en¬ 
sued,  and  in  the  heat  of  the  moment  the  Prince  drew 
a  pistol  and  fired  at  him.  The  shot,  missing  its  object, 
unhappily  took  effect  on  a  poor  soldier,  who  was  at 
that  very  moment  shouting  “Vive  Napoleon  III.!” 

This  painful  incident  distressed  the  Prince,  and 
threw  a  damper  over  the  spirits  of  all.  A  report,  too, 
was  at  that  instant  brought  him,  which  afterward 
turned  out  incorrect,  that  one  of  his  principal  officers 
had  abandoned  his  cause,  and  gone  over  to  the  king. 
Growing  desperate  with  his  situation,  he  made  an  en¬ 
ergetic  effort  to  dissipate  the  confusion  prevailing,  and 
rally  the  drooping  courage  of  his  troops.  Their  reso¬ 
lution  returned,  and,  still  accompanied  by  the  greater 


SECOND  DEFEAT  OF  LOOTS  NAPOLEON. 


221 


part,  he  made  his  way  to  the  gates  of  the  town.  To 
his  utter  discomfiture,  he  found  them  closed  ;  and 
turning  round,  he  saw  himself,  and  a  handful  of  men, 
hemmed  in  on  every  side  by  the  National  Guard, 
which,  as  yet,  had  no  distinct  idea  whom  or  what 
they  were  contending  with.  An  immediate  surrender 
would  have  been,  perhaps,  the  most  prudent  thing 
under  the  circumstances,  but  such  was  not  the  mood  of 
the  Prince.  Nobly  supported  by  the  forlorn  hope 
which  still  clung  to  him,  he  charged  with  such  impetu¬ 
osity  on  the  forces  in  his  front  as  to  scatter  them  in 
every  direction.  Without  any  purpose,  and  bereft  of 
every  chance  of  success,  the  idea  occurred  to  him  to 
make  for  the  column  erected  near  the  town,  to  the 
Imperial  army  and  cutting  his  way  through  all  opposi¬ 
tion  he  succeeded  in  reaching  it.  Here  turning  round 
he  exclaimed  to  his  devoted  followers  :  “It  is  useless 
now  to  explain  my  projects  —  my  cause  and  yours  is 
lost  —  there  is  nothing  left  but  to  die;” — and  he  per¬ 
sisted  in  his  mad  resolution  to  fight  till  some  well 
directed  ball  should  save  him  the  pain  of  surviving  his 
defeat.  In  defiance  of  his  struggles  and  menaces,  his 
friends  seized  him  in  their  arms,  and  carried  him  off 
to  the  beach,  where  a  small  boat  was  lying  in  wait 
to  convey  them  to  the  steamer,  which  still  lingered  in 
the  offing.  They  reached  the  shore  in  safety,  and 
the  Prince  was  entreated  to  shelter  himself  in  the 
bottom  of  the  skiff.  They  pushed  off  and  made  des¬ 
perate  efforts  to  reach  the  steamer,  little  dreaming  that 
it  had  already,  with  all  its  treasures,  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  Government.  They  were  but  a  few  rods 
from  the  shore,  when  the  National  Guard  overtook 


222 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


them,  and,  though  seeing  them  unarmed  and  entirely 
exposed,  opened  a  galling  fire  upon  them.  Here  a 
touching  incident  occurred,  which  gave  a  new  turn  to 
the  melancholy  affair,  and  brought  it  to  a  quick  and 
tragic  consummation.  A  brave  old  soldier,  Colonel  Me- 
sonan,  arrived  after  the  boat  had  left,  and  being  hotly 
pursued,  threw  himself  into  the  surf,  and  made  great 
exertions  to  overtake  his  friends.  lie  had  swum  a 
considerable  distance,  amid  a  shower  of  fire,  and  had 
nearly  reached  them,  when  his  strength  began  to  fail, 
and  he  was  about  to  sink.  Efforts  were  made  to 
rescue  him,  but  he  cried  out,  “Push  on  —  save  the 
Prince,  and  leave  me  to  my  fate!”  Escaping  from  the 
grasp  of  his  friends,  who  were  endeavoring  to  keep 
him  out  of  danger,  the  Prince,  wholly  regardless  of 
the  risk,  laid  hold  of  his  faithful  old  partisan,  and  en¬ 
deavored  to  drag  him  in.  In  the  attempt  the  boat  was 
upset,  and  the  whole  party  were  precipitated  into  the 
water.  This  painful  event,  instead  of  awakening  the 
humanity  of  those  on  the  shore,  who  disgraced  the 
uniform  they  wore,  only  seemed  to  renew  their  zeal. 
They  fired  volley  after  volley  on  the  unfortunate  band, 
whose  numbers  were  rapidly  diminished.  Some  were 
shot,  others  drowned ;  but  the  Prince  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  shore,  when  he  6tood  unshrinkingly  up, 
folded  his  arms,  and  facing  his  enemy,  calmly  awaited 
his  death-blow.  Two  of  his  friends,  Count  Dunin  and 
M.  Faure,  faithful  to  the  last,  were  shot  dead  at  his 
side.  Col.  Voisin  rushed  forward  to  protect  him,  and 
received  several  balls  in  different  parts  of  his  body. 
M.  Galveni,  a  Pole,  in  attempting  the  same  thing,  fell 
grievously  wounded.  The  Prince  himself  was  struck 


TRIAL  OF  LOUIS  NAPOLEON 


223 


by  two  balls  in  the  arm  and  in  the  leg,  but  the  inju¬ 
ries  were  not  serious.  When,  at  length,  the  National 
Guard  of  Boulogne  saw  that  nearly  every  man  was 
down,  and  that  the  Prince,  perfectly  unarmed,  was 
standing  a  tranquil  target  for  their  murderous  aim, 
they  plucked  up  resolution  enough  to  approach  and 
6eize  him.  The  ensuing  day  he  was  conveyed  to  Paris, 
and  all  along  the  road  received  the  warmest  marks  of 
sympathy  and  regret.  In  every  garrison  town  the  sol¬ 
diers  collected  in  groups  about  his  carriage,  and  in 
their  varied  expressions  of  grief  and  anger,  might  be 
traced  the  strength  of  their  attachment,  and  the  bitter¬ 
ness  of  their  disappointment. 

Toward  the  end  of  September,  1840,  Louis  Napoleon 
and  his  accomplices  W’ere  tried  before  the  Court  of 
Peers,  when,  on  the  28th  of  that  month,  he  made  the 
following  speech  in  his  own  defense  : 

“For  the  first  time  in  my  life  it  is  permitted  to  me 
to  lift  my  voice  in  France,  and  to  speak  freely  to 
Frenchmen. 

“  Undaunted  by  the  presence  of  the  guards  who 
surround  me ;  in  spite  of  the  accusations  which  I  have 
just  heard  brought  against  me;  filled  with  the  recollec¬ 
tions  of  my  earliest  childhood,  on  finding  myself  within 
the  walls  of  the  senate  ;  in  the  midst  of  you,  gentlemen, 
whom  I  know,  I  can  hardly  believe  that  I  have  any 
hope  of  justifying  myself,  and  that  you  should  be  my 
judges.  An  opportunity,  however,  is  afforded  me  of 
explaining  to  my  fellow-countrymen  my  past  conduct, 
my  intentions,  my  projects  ;  all  that  I  think,  all  that  I 
have  at  heart. 

“Without  pride,  but  also  without  weakness,  if  I  re¬ 
call  the  rights  deposited  by  the  nation  in  the  hands  of 
my  family,  it  is  solely  to  explain  the  duties  which  these 
rights  have  imposed  upon  us. 

“Since  fifty  years  ago,  when  the  principle  of  the 


224 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


sovereignty  of  the  people  was  consecrated  in  France 
by  the  most  powerful  lie  volution  which  ever  occurred 
in  the  history  of  the  world,  never  was  the  national  will 
so  solemnly  proclaimed,  never  was  it  asserted  by  suf¬ 
frages  so  numerous  and  so  free,  as  on  the  occasion 
when  it  adopted  the  constitutions  of  the  empire. 

“The  nation  has  never  revoked  that  grand  act  of 
its  sovereignty,  and  the  Emperor  has  declared  it  — 
‘Whatever  has  been  done  without  its  authority  is 
illegal.’ 

“At  the  same  time,  do  not  allow  yourselves  to  be¬ 
lieve  that,  led  away  by  the  impulses  of  personal  ambi¬ 
tion,  I  have  wished  by  these  acts  to  attempt  in  France 
a  restoration  of  the  empire.  I  have  been  taught  noble 
lessons,  and  have  lived  with  nobler  examples  before 
me,  than  to  do  so. 

“I  was  born  the  son  of  a  king,  who  descended  with¬ 
out  regret  from  a  throne,  on  the  day  when  he  had  reason 
to  believe  that  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  conciliate 
with  the  interests  of  France  those  of  the  people  whom 
he  had  been  called  upon  to  govern. 

“The  Emperor,  my  uncle,  preferred  abdicating  the 
empire  to  accepting  by  treaty  the  restricted  frontiers, 
while  he  could  not  but  expose  France  to  the  insults  and 
the  menaces  in  which  foreign  nations  to  this  day  per¬ 
mit  themselves  to  indulge.  I  have  not  lived  a  single 
day  forgetful  of  such  lessons.  The  unmerited  and  cruel 
act  of  proscription,  under  which  for  twenty-five  years 
I  have  endured  a  lingering  existence  —  beginning  at 
the  steps  of  the  throne,  where  I  was  born,  and  now 
stopping  at  the  dungeon  from  which  I  have  just  come  — 
lias  been  alike  powerless  to  irritate  as  to  fatigue  my 
heart;  it  has  not  been  able  for  a  single  day  to  estrange 
me  from  the  glory,  the  rights,  and  the  interests  of 
France.  My  conduct  and  my  convictions  sufficiently 
explain  the  fact. 

“  In  1830,  when  the  people  reconquered  their  sove¬ 
reignty,  I  had  expected  that  the  policy  of  the  following 
days  would  have  been  as  loyal  as  the  conquest  itself, 
and  that  the  destinies  of  France  would  have  been 
established  forever ;  instead  of  this,  the  country  has 


DEFENSE  OF  LOUIS  NArOLEOX. 


225 


undergone  the  melancholy  experiences  of  the  last  ten 
years."  Under  such  circumstances  I  considered  that  the 
vote  of  4,000,000  of  fellow-countrymen,  which  had  ele¬ 
vated  my  family  to  supreme  power,  imposed  upon  me 
at  least  the  duty  of  making  an  appeal  to  the  nation, 
and  inquiring  what  was  its  will.  1  thought  also  that 
it*  in  the  midst  of  the  national  congress  which  .1  in¬ 
tended  to  convene,  certain  pretensions  should  have 
made  themselves  heard,  I  should  have  had  the  right  to 
re-awaken  the  glorious  souvenirs  of  the  empire ;  to 
speak  of  the  elder  brother  of  the  Emperor,  of  that  vir¬ 
tuous  man  who  before  me  is  his  only  heir ;  and  to  con¬ 
trast,  face  to  face,  this  France  as  she  is  now,  weakened 
and  passed  over  in  silence  in  the  congress  of  kings, 
and  the  France  of  that  day,  when  she  was  so  strong  at 
home,  and  abroad  so  powerful  and  so  respected.  The 
nation  would  then  have  replied  to  the  question,  ‘  lie- 
public  or  Monarchy?  Empire  or  Kingdom?’  And 
upon  the  free  discussion  of  the  nation  upon  this  ques¬ 
tion  depends  the  termination  of  our  sorrows  and  of 
our  dissensions. 

“With  respect  to  my  enterprise,  I  repeat  it  —  I  had 
no  accomplices.  It  was  I  alone  who  determined  every 
thing ;  nobody  knew  beforehand  my  plans,  nor  my 
resources,  nor  my  hopes.  If  I  am  guilty  as  against 
anybody,  it  is  against  my  friends  only.  Nevertheless, 
I  hope  that  they  will  not  accuse  me  of  having  lightly 
trifled  with  courage  and  devotion  such  as  theirs.  They 
will  understand  the  motives  of  honor  and  of  prudence 
which  prevent  me  from  revealing,  even  to  themselves, 
how  widely  based  and  how  powerful  were  my  reasons 
for  hoping  for  a  successful  result. 

“  One  word  more,  gentlemen.  I  represent  before 
you  a  principle,  a  cause,  and  a  defeat.  The  principle 
.s  the  sovereignty  of  the  people ;  the  cause  is  that 
of  the  empire;  the  defeat  is  that  of  Waterloo.  The 
principle  —  you  have  recognized  it;  the  cause — you 
aave  served  in  it;  the  defeat  —  you  would  avenge 
4!  No,  then,  there  is  no  dis-accord  between  you  and 
>*ie ;  and  I  will  not  believe  that  I  can  be  destined  to  be 
rrieved  by  the  disaffection  of  any  others. 


226 


LOUIS  N APOLLON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


“  Representing  a  political  cause,  I  cannot  accept  as 
the  judge  of  my  intentions  and  of  my  acts,  a  political 
tribunal.  Nobody  will  be  imposed  upon  by  your  forms. 
In  the  struggle  which  is  now  commencing,  there  will 
be  but  one  to  conquer,  one  defeated.  If  you  are  in  the 
ranks  of  the  conqueror,  I  cannot  expect  justice  at  your 
hands,  and  I  will  not  accept  of  your  generosity.” 

On  the  6th  of  October,  1840,  the  court  delivered  its 
sentence,  convicting  all  its  prisoners,  with  three  excep¬ 
tions,  and  condemning  Louis  Napoleon  to  perpetual 
imprisonment.  The  sentence  of  the  others  was  less 
severe.  When  he  heard  the  decision  of  the  court  he 
is  recorded  to  have  exclaimed  —  “At  least  I  shall  have 
the  happiness  of  dying  in  France!”  His  letter  of 
thanks  to  M.  Berryer,  the  eminent  counsel  who  con¬ 
ducted  his  defense,  was  a  specimen  of  the  extravagant 
rhetoric  to  which  Louis  Napoleon  seems  to  have  been 
much  addicted,  and  which  ever  casts  a  shade  of  doubt 
over  the  sincerity  of  the  fine  sentiments  he  may  utter. 
The  letter  was  closed  with  the  following  words  —  “I 
know  not  what  fate  may  have  in  reserve  for  me;  I 
know  not  if  I  shall  ever  be  in  a  position  to  prove  to 
you  my  gratitude  ;  I  know  not  if  you  would  ever  con¬ 
sent  to  accept  any  proofs  of  it ;  but  whatever  may  be 
our  respective  positions,  apart  from  politics,  and  their 
painful  obligations,  we  can  always  entertain  feelings 
of  friendship  and  esteem  for  one  another;  and  I  de¬ 
clare  to  you  that,  if  my  trial  had  had  no  other  result 
than  to  obtain  for  me  your  friendship,  I  should  con¬ 
sider  myself  immensely  the  gainer  by  it,  and  should 
not  complain  of  my  fate  !” 

Two  months  afterward,  while  Louis  Napoleon  was 
pining  in  the  walls  of  a  prison,  the  ashes  of  his  uncle 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  EMPEROR’S  REMAINS.  227 

were  received  in  Paris  and  buried  with  the  greatest 
pomp,  and  amid  the  enthusiastic  rejoicings  of  the  people 
of  the  whole  country.  This  occasion  Louis  Napoleon 
seized  to  write  a  wild  rhapsody,  addressed,  “Aux 
Manes  de  l’Empereur;”  of  which  the  following  is  a 
translation : 

TO  THE  MANES  OF  THE  EMPEROR. 

“Citadel  of  Ham,  Dec.  15,  1840. 

“Sire — You  return  to  your  capital,  and  the  people 
in  multitudes  hailed  your  return  ;  while  I  from  the 
depth  of  my  dungeon  can  only  discern  a  ray  of  that 
sun  which  shines  upon  your  obsequies!  Do  not  be 
angry  with  your  family,  that  it  is  not  there  to  receive 
you  :  your  exile  and  your  misfortunes  have  ceased  with 
your  life  ;  —  ours  continue  always  !  You  have  expired 
upon  a  rock,  far  from  your  country  and  from  your 
kindred  ;  the  hand  of  a  son  has  not  closed  your  eyes ; 
and  to-day  none  of  your  kinsmen  will  follow  your 
bier!  Montholon,  whom  you  loved  the  most  among 
your  faithful  companions,  has  performed  the  office  of  a 
son  ;  he  remains  faithful  to  your  ideas  and  has  fulfilled 
your  last  wishes,  lie  has  conveyed  to  me  your  last 
words.  He  is  in  prison  with  me  !  A  French  vessel, 
under  the  command  of  a  noble  youth,  went  to  claim 
your  ashes  ;  in  vain  you  would  look  upon  the  deck  for 
any  of  your  kin  ;  your  family  was  not  there.  When 
you  touched  the  soil  of  France,  an  electric  shock  was 
felt ;  you  raised  yourself  in  your  coffin ;  your  eyes 
were  for  a  moment  re-opened  ;  the  tricolor  floated 
upon  the  shore,  but  your  eagle  was  not  there !  The 
people,  as  in  former  times,  press  around  your  coffin, 
and  salute  you  with  their  acclamations,  as  if  you  were 
still  alive  ;  but  the  courtiers  of  the  day,  while  render¬ 
ing  you  homage,  say  with  suppressed  breath  —  ‘God 
grant,  he  may  not  awake !’  You  have  at  length  seen 
again  these  French,  whom  you  loved  so  much  ;  you 
have  returned  again  into  that  France,  which  you  made 
bo  great ;  but  foreigners  have  left  their  trace,  which 


228 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  ITTS  TOLLS. 


the  pomp  of  your  return  can  never  efface!  See  that 
young  army  ;  they  are  the  sons  of  your  veterans  ;  they 
venerate  you,  for  you  are  their  glory  ;  but  it  is  said  to 
them,  ‘Fold  your  arms!’  Sire,  the  people  are  the  good 
stuff  which  cover  our  beautiful  country,  but  these  men 
whom  you  have  made  so  great,  and  who  are  yet  so 
small — ah,  sire,  regret  them  not!  They  have  denied 
your  gospel,  your  glory  and  your  blood  ;  when  I  have 
spoken  to  them  of  your  cause,  they  have  said  to  me, 
‘\Ve  do  not  understand  it!*  Let  them  say,  let  them 
do  ;  what  signifies  to  the  car  which  rolls,  the  grains 
of  sand  which  it  crushes  under  its  wheels!  They  say 
in  vain,  that  you  were  a  meteor  which  has  left  no  trace 
behind  ;  in  vain  they  deny  your  civil  glory;  they  will 
not  disinherit  us!  Sire,  the  fifteenth  of  December  is  a 
great  day  for  France  and  for  me.  From  the  midst  of 
your  splendid  funeral  train,  disdaining  the  homage 
of  many  around,  you  have,  for  a  moment,  cast  your 
eyes  upon  ray  gloomy  abode,  and  calling  to  mind  the 
caresses  you  lavished  upon  me  when  a  child,  you  have 
said  to  me,  ‘You  have  suffered  for  me;  son,  I  am 
satisfied  with  you!’ 

“Louis  Hapoleon  Bonapakte.” 

Louis  Hapoleon  was  imprisoned  in  the  fortress  of 
Ham,  in  the  province  of  Picardy.  It  is  one  of  the 
strongest  citadels  in  France,  and  has,  for  centuries, 
been  occasionally  used  for  the  confinement  of  prisoners 
of  state.  It  was  used  by  Louis  Philippe,  after  the 
overthrow  of  Charles  X.  in  1830,  for  the  incarceration 
of  the  ministers  of  the  fallen  monarch. 

The  fortress  of  Ilam  is  one  of  great  antiquity,  the 
place  having  been  occupied  as  a  military  station  as 
early  as  the  time  when  the  legions  of  Julius  Cajsai 
were  in  possession  of  the  country.  Portions  of  the 
castle,  still  remaining,  were  constructed  in  the  fourth 
century.  On  the  plains  in  its  neighborhood,  the  wild 


THE  CONSTABLES  TOWER. 


229 


and  warlike  Iluns,  under  Attila,  were  defeated  in  the 
fifth  century.  It  was  a  place  of  much  importance 
during  the  feudal  wars.  In  923,  an  heir  of  Charle¬ 
magne  was  imprisoned  in  Ilam ;  and  923  years  after¬ 
ward,  the  heir  of  Napoleon —  the  only  French  monarch 
whose  fame  rivals  that  of  Charlemagne  —  was  a  pris¬ 
oner  within  the  same  massive  and  gloomy  walls. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  features  of  the  castle  is 
the  “  Constable’s  tower.”  It  is  one  of  much  interest, 
both  from  the  singularity  of  its  construction  and  its 
romantic  history.  It  was  built  in  1460,  by  the  Count  St. 
Pol,  Constable  of  France.  This  powerful  feudal  lord 
was  on  but  indifferent  terms  with  his  wily  sovereign, 
Louis  XI.,  and  fearful  that  matters  might  go  the  length 
of  an  open  breach,  he  bethought  him  of  building  this 
gigantic  tower  of  one  hundred  feet  in  height,  the  same 
in  diameter,  with  walls  thirty  feet  in  thickness,  in 
whose  capacious  sides  were  constructed  various  cham¬ 
bers.  A  wride  moat  or  ditch  formeidy  surrounded  it, 
adding  to  its  security.  Proud  of  this  structure,  he 
engraved  on  its  massive  portal  the  words  still  legi¬ 
ble,  mon  mieux ,  (my  best)  and  confidently  relied  on 
its  strength  to  protect  him  in  case  of  need  against 
the  worst  assaults  of  his  formidable  enemy.  He  cal¬ 
culated  without  his  host,  poor  fellow,  and  with  a 
strange  blindness  to  the  character  of  his  foe.  The 
Louis  of  that  day  was  notorious  for  his  exceeding 
craftiness,  and,  of  choice,  preferred  always  to  accom¬ 
plish  his  aims  by  trickery,  even  when  simple  means 
would  have  been  better.  Instead  of  bringing  his  terri¬ 
ble  artillery  to  bear  on  the  impregnable  sides  of  mon 
mieux ,  which  would  have  “  laughed  a  siege  to  scorn,” 


230 


LOUIS  napoleon:  AND  Ills  TIMES. 


lie  expressed  in  dissembling  language,  bis  admira¬ 
tion  of  its  noble  masonry,  and  not  long  after,  in  affec¬ 
tionate  terms,  invited  its  enterprising  projector  to 
Paris,  where  the  confiding  S't.  Pol  betook  himself,  little 
dreaming  that  the  structure  he  had  erected  to  preserve 
his  life  would  only  serve  as  a  monument  to  commemo¬ 
rate  his  death.  He  was  seized,  imprisoned-,  and  be¬ 
headed,  on  reaching  the  court  of  his  treacherous 
master. 

In  one  of  the  various  cells  of  this  great  tower,  ac¬ 
cording  to  a  popular  tradition,  a  Capuchin  friar  was 
once  imprisoned.  When  and  for  what,  no  one  knows. 
But  it  appears  that  his  misfortunes  were  the  conse¬ 
quence  of  his  virtnes  —  a  very  common  thing  at  a  time 
when  vice  was  triumphant,  and  guided  the  affairs  of 
the  world  !  Providence,  however,  gave  the  most  strik¬ 
ing  proofs  of  its  favor  and  protection  to  the  poor  Capu- 
chin  ;  for,  if  we  can  give  credit  to  the  legend,  the  monk 
continued  to  live  for  a  long  period  of  years,  in  chains, 
supported  by  the  fervor  of  his  prayers  alone!  His 
body  had  become  so  hardened,  so  petrified,  by  his  pri¬ 
vations,  that  his  head  had  worn  the  stone  which  served 
him  for  a  pillow,  and  left  impressed  upon  it  the  form 
of  his  countenance  and  the  shape  of  his  ear.  It  will 
easily  be  understood  with  what  devotion  this  holy 
stone  was  visited,  when  it  is  known  that  every  young 
girl  who  came  to  visit  the  shrine,  and  wrho,  after  having 
brought  it  into  contact  with  her  garments,  religiously 
detached  a  small  portion  of  it,  believed  she  would  not 
fail  to  find  a  husband  within  a  year.  It  is  needless  to 
add,  that  in  consequence  of  the  soft  and  friable  nature 
of  the  stone,  that  which  is  now  shown  in  one  of  the 


TIIE  LOVERS  OF  PICARDV. 


231 


casements  of  the  great  tower,  has  yielded  with  such  a 
good  grace  to  the  devotional  acts  of  the  successive 
generations  of  the  damsels  of  Picardy,  that  at  present, 
there  is  neither  impression  of  countenance  or  of  ear, 
nor,  indeed,  of  any  thing  which  has  any  resemblance 
whatever  to  any  part  of  the  good  Capuchin  friar. 

There  was  a  young  man,  named  Lautrec,  (says 
another  tradition,  much  more  recent  and  less  doubtful 
than  that  of  the  Capuchin,)  handsome  in  person  and 
of  an  ardent  temperament.  He  met  with  a  young 
woman  beautiful  as  himself,  and  full  of  generous  pas¬ 
sion,  but  chaste,  pious  and  imbued  with  candor  and 
modesty.  Lautrec  ardently  loved  her ;  wTith  a  love 
6uch  as  men  of  his  character  feel,  impassioned  and  ill- 
regulated.  The  young  girl  reciprocated  his  affection. 
She  loved  Lautrec,  but  she  loved  him  with  tender 
innocence.  Her  condition  wras  obscure,  and  she  had 
no  property  to  redeem  her  from  it.  Lautrec  imagined, 
for  some  time,  that  love  would  gain  the  ascendancy  in 
her  mind  over  virtue;  but  he  was  deceived.  The  poor 
girl,  astonished  and  humiliated,  found  an  inflexible 
strength  in  her  purity  of  mind.  Lautrec  had  no  hopes 
of  prevailing  over  or  soothing  his  father’s  pride,  and 
he  did  not,  therefore,  make  the  attempt  to  obtain  her 
as  his  bride.  The  fruitless  passion  which  consumed 
him  became  an  obstinate  and  irresistible  evil.  His 
complexion  faded  ;  his  looks  lost  their  vivacity ;  he 
lived  in  seclusion ;  and  became  gloomy,  thoughtful, 
and  taciturn.  He  scarcely  listened  to  those  who  ad¬ 
dressed  him,  and  answered  only  with  groans. 

Lautrec  had  an  uncle,  still  young,  who  had  been 
early  raised  to  high  offices  of  dignity  in  the  church, 


232 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


and  had  always  treated  him  with  great  affection.  This 
uncle  marked  the  serious  change  which  had  taken 
place  in  his  nephew,  and  was  distressed  at  the  result. 
He  often  put  very  pressing  questions,  which  the  young 
man  evaded.  The  uncle  would  not  suffer  himself  to 
be  repulsed,  and  persevered.  Lautrec,  at  length  yield¬ 
ing  to  his  affection  and  importunities,  allowed  his  secret 
to  escape.  In  an  age  in  which  moral  duties  sat  lightly, 
and  men  were  very  unscrupulous  in  their  conduct,  love 
was  hardly  ever  treated  as  a  serious  affair.  The  uncle 
adopted  all  possible  means  to  overcome  the  love  of  his 
nephew.  Failing  in  this  he  urged  the  maid  to  submit 
to  the  young  man’s  unlawful  passion,  and  made  offers 
of  great  wealth  as  a  compensation  for  the  sacrifice  of 
her  honor.  But  the  virtue  of  the  poor  girl  was  not 
less  deeply  rooted  in  her  heart,  than  her  passion.  The 
inflexible  simplicity  of  her  young  mind  disconcerted 
all  the  resources  of  ingenuity.  The  heart  of  the  uncle 
himself  was  troubled,  and  a  perverse,  wicked  and 
frightful  idea  entered  his  mind.  He  would  himself 
effect  her  ruin.  So  many  charms  had  captivated  him, 
so  much  virtue  filled  him  with  inexpressible  admira¬ 
tion.  The  unhappy  man  yielded  to  his  passion,  and 
ventured  to  declare  his  love.  A  cry  of  horror  and 
fear  was  the  only  reply  'which  the  young  girl  could 
make:  confounded  and  terrified,,  he  fled.  At  the  same 
moment,  Lautrec  arrived.  The  girl  wept,  groaned,  and 
evinced  symptoms  of  the  most  violent  despair.  The 
young  man  became  desperate,  and  asked  her  the  cause 
of  such  extraordinary  agitation,  such  lively  grief.  He 
wished  to  know  it,  and  to  know  it  on  the  instant, 
without  dissimulation  or  concealment.  His  voice  was 


THE  LIBERATED  PRISONER. 


233 


at  once  suppliant  and  imperious.  He  entreated  and 
insisted  ;  he  wept  and  commanded.  What  could  the 
poor  girl  do?  She  was  overcome  by  her  own  emo¬ 
tion —  by  the  eagerness  and  impetuosity  of  Lautrec. 
In  her  indignation  and  her  amazement,  incapable  of 
measuring  her  words  or  of  foreseeing  consequences,  she 
made  imprudent  disclosures,  and  Lautrec  learned  the 
treachery  of  his  uncle,  or  surmised  it. 

Overwhelmed  with  the  intelligence,  his  mind  be¬ 
came  deranged,  and  scarce  a  glimmering  of  reason 
was  left.  He  rushed  away  —  seized  his  arms  —  fol¬ 
lowed  the  traces  of  his  uncle  —  reached  him  at  the 
foot  of  the  altar,  and  although  robed  in  the  vestments 
of  his  exalted  office,  he  struck  him  dead,  and  revenged 
himself  in  his  blood.  From  that  time  the  dungeons 
of  Ham  became  the  refuge  of  his  madness  and  his 
crime.  Forty  years  had  elapsed,  when  the  Revolution 
of  1789  took  place,  and  he  was  liberated  ;  but  forgot¬ 
ten,  and  disavowed  by  his  kindred,  he  had  neither  a 
resting-place  nor  bread.  The  people  of  Ham  took  pity 
on  his  condition,  and  committed  him  to  the  care  of  a 
poor  woman  to  provide  for  his  wants.  Her  care  was 
not  long  needed,  for  he  died  in  about  three  months 
afterward.  He  would  probably  have  lived  a  longer 
time  had  not  liberty,  a  stranger  so  completely  un¬ 
known,  come  unexpectedly  upon  him,  to  derange  and 
alter  all  the  melancholy  habits  of  his  life. 

At  the  commencement  of  his  sojourn  in  the  citadel 
of  11am,  Louis  Napoleon  occupied  the  rooms  which 
had  been  appropriated  to  Polignac,  the  minister  of 
Charles  X.  These  apartments  were  in  a  complete 
6tate  of  dilapidation,  and  comfort  was  as  carefully 


234 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


excluded  from  this  melancholy  abode  as  light  itsel 
No  person  was  permitted  to  visit  him,  on  any  pretense 
without  a  letter  from  the  government  at  Paris,  cour 
tersigned  by  the  principal  magistrate  of  Ham.  Hi 
only  servant,  who  had  voluntarily  entered  the  fortres 
with  his  master,  was  not  allowed  to  leave  it  even  t( 
purchase  articles  for  his  subsistence  or  health.  Fo: 
some  months  Louis  Napoleon  patiently  endured  thi; 
rigor,  and  the  privations  of  his  daily  allowance  froir 
the  government  of  only  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  of  oui 
money  :  but  in  May,  1841,  he  addressed  a  protest  froir 
the  citadel  of  Ham,  complaining  that  in  his  person  the 
usages  of  all  nations,  in  the  treatment  of  political 
offenders,  were  outrageously  violated.  The  prisonei 
insisted  that  he  was  the  son  of  a  king,  and  allied  to 
all  the  sovereigns  in  Europe  ;  and  that  he  derived  his 
honors  from  the  same  source  as  Louis  Philippe  his 
throne  —  the  sovereignty  of  the  people;  he  referred  to  1 
the  fortitude  with  which  he  had  borne  twenty-seven 
years  of  proscription  and  exile,  and  complained  that 
ne  was  treated  like  an  excommunicated  person  of  the 
thirteenth  century  ;  that  he  was  not  allowed,  in  his  let¬ 
ters  to  his  friends,  to  describe  his  condition ;  that  a 
civility  from  the  attendants  in  the  prison  was  punished 
as  a  crime ;  and  that  he  was  exposed  to  numerous 
vexations  that  were  not  necessary  for  his  safe  custody. 

In  this  expostulation,  in  which  Louis  Napoleon  as¬ 
sumed  the  air  of  a  martyr,  he  evidently  had  the 
advantage  of  the  government,  who,  either  yielding  to 
the  justice  of  his  logic,  or  fearing  to  be  accused  of 
wanton  inhumanity  by  their  opponents,  relaxed  the 
detestable  severity  of  his  bondage.  The  condition  of 


PRISON  OCCUPATIONS. 


235 


the  captive  was  henceforth  materially  improved,  and 
though  he  still  inhabited  the  dilapidated  chambers 
that  had  been  occupied  by  the  infamous  minister  of 
Charles  X.,  his  valet,  Charles  Thelin,  was  allowed  free 
egress  to  the  town,  and  upon  the  failure  of  his  health 
Louis  Napoleon  was  permitted  horse  exercise  within 
the  limits  of  the  yard.  Jailers  are  proverbial  reflectors 
of  the  powers  they  serve,  and  the  commandant  of  the 
citadel  now  frequently,  after  shutting  up  the  prison, 
retired  to  the  prisoner’s  room  to  pass  the  evening 
at  whist. 

Louis  Napoleon  passed  a  large  portion  of  his  time 
in  intellectual  pursuits.  He  rose  early,  and  wrote  until 
breakfast,  at  ten.  lie  then  walked  on  the  ramparts,  or 
cultivated  a  few  favorite  flowers.  The  remainder  of 
the  day  was  occupied  in  various  studies.  His  evenings 
were  passed  in  the  society  of  his  fellow-prisoner,  Gen¬ 
eral  Montholon,  or  with  the  commandant.  After  his 
indignant  protest  in  regard  to  his  treatment,  he  was 
allowed  to  receive  visitors,  and  many  eminent  men 
went  to  see  the  distinguished  prisoner.  His  corre¬ 
spondence  was  quite  extensive.  In  one  of  his  letters 
(to  Lady  Blessington)  this  remarkable  passage  occurs  — 
“I  have  no  desire  to  quit  the  spot  where  I  now  am,  for 
here  I  am  in  my  proper  place.  With  the  name  I  bear 
I  must  either  be  in  the  seclusion  of  a  dungeon,  or  in 
the  brightness  of  power !  ”  He  corresponded  with 
Arago,  the  astronomer,  on  scientific  subjects,  and  with 
Sismondi,  the  historian,  in  regard  to  writing  a  life  of 
Charlemagne. 

Besides  his  works  on  the  Swiss  Confederation  and 
on  Artillery,  Louis  Napoleon,  previous  to  his  attempt 


236  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

at  Strasbourg,  had  published  a  volume  of  “  Political 
Reflections,’'  in  which  he  seems  to  have  endeavored  to 
elaborate  a  theory  of  government  embodying  the  idea 
of  Lafayette  in  regard  to  “a  monarchy  surrounded  by 
republican  institutions.”  And  on  the  eve  of  his  rev¬ 
olutionary  movement  at  Boulogne,  he  issued  another 
work  entitled,  “Idees  Napoleoniennes/’inwhich  he  not 
only  explained  his  own  views  on  many  political  topics, 
but  those  also  of  his  illustrious  uncle.  In  this  produc¬ 
tion  there  is  the  same  commingling  of  republican  and 
monarchical  principles  as  in  its  predecessor. 

Endowed  with  much  activity  of  mind,  and  an  in¬ 
satiable  ambition,  the  Prince  gave  up  his  time,  while 
in  prison,  to  the  composition  of  several  works.  Bis 
literary  pursuits  not  only  afforded  him  occupation,  hut 
they  brought  him  much  applause  and  served  to  keep 
the  public  attention  fixed  upon  him. 

Shortly  after  the  incarceration  of  Louis  Napoleon  in 
the  citadel  of  Ilam,  the  question  whether  the  govern¬ 
ment  should  more  effectually  encourage  the  manufac¬ 
ture  of  beet-root  sugar  was  discussed  with  great 
animation  throughout  France.  The  manufacture  of 
beet-root  sugar,  factitiously  created  and  supported  by 
a  high  protective  tariff,  was  one  of  the  Emperor  Na¬ 
poleon’s  schemes  for  interrupting  the  ordinary  course 
of  commerce,  and  was  adopted  more  especially  with  a 
view  to  the  injury  of  England,  from  whom  the  French 
had  obtained  their  sugar.  It  was  natural,  therefore, 
that  the  heir  to  the  empire  should  think  it  his  duty  to 
adopt  the  prejudices  and  animosities  of  his  uncle,  and 
to  advocate  the  policy  bequeathed  to  France  by  the 
Emperor.  The  Prince’s  pamphlet  had  great  success. 


LITERARY  LABORS  OF  LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 


237 


'he  committee  representing  the  interests  of  the  sugar 
lanufacturers,  who  were  engaged  in  urging  upon  the 
overnment  the  necessity  of  protecting  their  industry, 
ad  who  rejected  the  idea  of  a  proposed  compensation 
>r  the  suppression  of  their  trade,  were  about  to  draw 
p  a  paper  to  lay  before  the  government  and  the 
hambers,  with  a  view  to  convince  both  of  the  ad- 
intages  of  preparing  sugar  from  beet-root,  and  of  the 
ghts  and  claims  of  the  manufacturers  to  protection, 
his  committee,  having  been  informed  of  the  existence 
‘  a  pamphlet  on  this  question,  published  by  the  pris- 
ler  of  Ham,  found,  on  examination,  that  the  Prince’s 
iper  presented  the  merits  of  the  question  in  a  manner 
i!  clear  and  concise,  that  they  relinquished  the  idea  of 
uy  other  publication.  They  found  their  own  ideas 
"mpletely  and  admirably  stated.  In  consequence  of 
is  opinion,  the  committee  requested  the  author  to 
ace  3,000  copies  at  the  disposal  of  the  society,  to 
istribute  them  among  the  members  of  the  government, 
i  d  other  parties  interested. 

“In  misfortune  it  is  natural  to  think  of  those  who 
ffFer,”  said  Louis  Napoleon,  in  the  preface  of  a  work 
<  the  “Extinction  of  Pauperism,”  which  he  published 
i  1844.  It  was  certainly  magnanimous,  and  highly 
lnorable  to  the  Prince,  that  in  the  midst  of  the  annoy- 
i  ces  and  sufferings  of  captivity,  he  should  occupy  his 
tiughts  with  studying  the  best  means  for  either  reme- 
( ing  or  mitigating  the  evils  which  afflicted  many  of 
h  fellow-countrymen. 

The  political  economists  of  Europe  seem  to  regard 
juperism  as  a  necessary  evil,  and  affirm  that  all 
6:iety  can  or  ought  to  do  is  to  repress  it,  for  they 


238 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


consider  its  extinction  to  be  impossible.  They  woulc 
suppress  mendicity  by  punishing  paupers  almost  as  it 
they  were  robbers,  without  even  thinking  of  the  possi 
bility  of  bringing  about  a  condition  of  things  in  whicl 
there  need  be  no  mendicant,  by  making  a  place  foi 
all  at  the  social  banquet  which  God  has  spread  for  his 
whole  people,  as  he  has  made  the  sun  to  shine  upon  all 
Although  not  directly  avowed,  nor  perhaps  whollj 
intended,  the  policy  of  the  European  government!: 
toward  paupers  seems  to  be  founded,  in  a  great  de 
gree,  upon  the  principle  that  pauperism,  although 
unavoidable,  is  still  criminal,  and  that  it  should  be 
punished,  rather  than  that  its  miseries  should  be  miti¬ 
gated.  A  Scotch  economist,  a  few  years  ago,  pub¬ 
lished  a  pamphlet  in  which  he  maintained  that  the 
most  efficacious  means  of  diminishing  it  would  be  tc 
give  no  relief  to  paupers.  They  will  die,  said  he,  and 
their  attenuated  carcasses,  in  the  streets  and  highways, 
will  be  a  warning  to  all  those  who  have  not  been, 
careful  to  provide  some  resource  against  age  and 
misfortune,  in  their  days  of  health  and  activity! 

However  impracticable  may  have  been  the  scheme 
of  Louis  Napoleon,  he  seems  to  have  been  impelled  by 
the  sacred  injunction  —  “Thou  shalt  open  thine  band 
wide  unto  thy  brother,  to  thy  poor,  and  to  thy  needy, 
in  thy  land.”  His  plan  for  the  aid  of  the  poor,  con¬ 
sisted,  chiefly,  in  the  adoption  of  means  to  bring  into 
use  the  immense  extent  of  uncultivated  or  neglected 
lands,  yet  lying  waste  in  France,  without  yielding  any 
profit  either  to  the  masses  or  to  individuals.  He  pro¬ 
posed  that  the  government  should  form,  on  these  lands,! 
agricultural  colonies  of  unemployed  laborers,  and  thus, 


THE  NICARAGUA  SHIP  CANAL. 


239 


while  giving  them  employment,  enrich  the  state.  In 
the  course  of  his  work  the  following  language  occurs  : 
•‘The  reign  of  caste  is  finished :  there  is  no  way 
of  government  except  through  the  masses  ;  while  gov¬ 
ernment  must  be  according  to  their  will,  it  becomes 
the  more  necessary  that  they  be  so  disciplined,  that 
they  may  be  directed  and  enlightened  as  to  their  true 
interests.  Government  can  no  longer  be  carried  on  by 
force  and  violence ;  the  people  must  be  led  toward 
something  better,  through  appeals  to  their  reason  and 
their  hearts.  But  as  the  masses  require  to  be  taught 
and  made  moral,  and  as  authority  requires  on  its  side 
to  be  kept  within  bounds,  and  to  be  itself  enlightened 
upon  the  interests  of  the  greatest  number,  two  move¬ 
ments  become,  as  of  necessity,  of  equal  force  :  action 
of  power  on  the  mass,  and  the  reaction  of  the  mass  on 
power.” 

Louis  Napoleon  also  beguiled  the  tedium  of  prison 
life  by  the  composition  of  various  other  works,  chiefly 
relating  to  the  Emperor,  or  in  explanation  of  his  own 
views  of  government.  Ilis  attention  was  so  absorbed 
by  these  literary  pursuits,  that  it  was  only  when  they 
were  interrupted,  that  he  remembered  that  he  was 
confined  within  the  walls  of  a  prison,  and  that  he  was 
surrounded  by  vigilant  jailers. 

In  the  year  1844,  while  thus  engaged,  the  states  of 
Guatimala,  St.  Salvador  and  Honduras,  sent  an  agent 
to  Louis  Napoleon,  requesting  him,  if  his  liberation 
could  be  procured,  to  go  to  Central  America,  and  take 
charge  of  the  construction  of  a  ship-canal  near  the 
isthmus  of  Panama,  to  connect  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
oceans.  The  negotiations  were  continued  until,  early 


240 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


in  the  year  1846,  he  was  endowed  with  all  the  powers 
necessary  to  organize  a  company  in  Europe,  for  the 
accomplishment  of  that  great  enterprise.  This  canal, 
which  -was  to  open  a  new  channel  for  the  commerce  of 
the  world,  was,  in  compliment  to  him,  to  be  called  the 
“  Canal  Napoleon.”  The  civil  wars  which  were  raging 
in  the  various  states  of  Central  America,  prevented 
the  feasibility  of  the  great  project,  the  completion  of 
which  would  have  conferred  imperishable  renown  upon 
the  name  of  Louis  Napoleon,  and  the  enterprise  was 
necessarily  abandoned.  In  the  unsettled  state  of  af¬ 
fairs,  in  the  states  interested  in  the  canal,  European 
capitalists  were  unwilling  to  hazard  the  undertaking. 

Toward  the  autumn  of  1845,  the  Count  of  St.  Leu, 
(formerly  King  of  Holland,  and  father  of  Louis  Na¬ 
poleon,)  who  had  long  been  in  declining  health,  found 
his  end  approaching,  and  determined  to  make  an  earn¬ 
est  appeal  to  Louis  Philippe’s  clemency,  for  permis¬ 
sion  to  clasp  his  son  once  more  in  his  arms  before  he 
should  die.  Louis  Napoleon  also  requested  permission 
to  visit  his  dying  father,  and  proposed,  after  perform¬ 
ing  the  last  sad  offices  to  the  corpse  of  his  parent,  to 
return  again  to  his  prison.  Through  a  technical  objec¬ 
tion  this  application  was  denied,  and  he  was  referred 
to  the  king.  The  Prince  then  addressed  Louis  Philippe 
as  follows : 

“  Fortress  of  Ham,  January  14,  1846. 

“Sike,  —  It  is  not  without  deep  emotion  that  I  ap¬ 
proach  your  Majesty,  and  ask,  as  a  favor,  permission 
to  quit  France,  even  for  a  short  time.  For  five  years 
I  have  found,  in  breathing  the  air  of  my  country,  ample 
compensation  for  the  torments  of  captivity  ;  but  my 
father  is  now  aged  and  infirm,  and  calls  for  my 


LETTER  OF  THIERS. 


241 


attentions  and  care,  lie  has  applied  to  persons  known 
tor  their  attachment  to  your  Majesty,  in  order  to  obtain 
my  liberation;  and  it  is  my  duty  to  do  every  thing 
which  depends  upon  me  to  meet  his  desires. 

“The  council  of  ministers  has  not  felt  itself  compe¬ 
tent  to  accede  to  the  request  which  I  made  to  be  al¬ 
lowed  to  go  to  Florence,  engaging  to  return,  and  again 
to  become  a  prisoner,  as  soon  as  the  government  might 
■desire  me  to  do  so.  I  approach  your  majesty  with  con¬ 
fidence,  to  make  an  appeal  to  your  feeling  of  humanity,  . 
and  to  renew  my  request  by  submitting  it  to  your  high 
and  generous  interference. 

“  Your  Majesty  will,  I  am  convinced,  appreciate  a 
step  which,  beforehand,  engages  my  gratitude,  and, 
affected  by  the  isolated  position  in  a  foreign  land  of  a 
man  who,  upon  a  throne,  gained  the  esteem  of  Europe, 
will  accede  to  the  wishes  of  my  father  and  myself. 

“I  beg  your  Majesty  to  receive  the  expressions  of  my 
profound  respect. 

“Hapoleon  Louis  Bonaparte.” 

He  also  wrote  numerous  letters  to  ministers,  cour¬ 
tiers,  and  persons  of  influence,  and  received,  among 
others,  the  following  in  reply  from  M.  Thiers : 

“Prince,  —  I  have  received  the  letter  which  you 
have  done  me  the  honor  to  address  to  me,  in  order  to 
make  me  acquainted  with  the  refusal  which  has  been 
given  to  your  request.  It  seems  to  me,  that  the  desire 
of  seeing  a  dying  father,  accompanied  by  the  promise 
of  returning  to  prison  on  the  first  requisition  of  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior,  ought  to  have  been  regarded 
as  sufficient.  In  my  opinion,  such  a  measure  might 
have  been  adopted  without  inconvenience,  upon  the 
responsibility  of  the  minister  who  had  sanctioned  it.  I 
am  sorry,  Prince,  not  to  have  it  in  my  power  to  be  of 
any  use  to  you  whatever  in  these  circumstances. .  I 
have  no  influence  with  the  government,  and  publicity 
would  serve  you  little.  On  every  occasion  in  which 
I  can  possibly  contribute  to  solace  your  misfortunes 

11 


24:2 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


without  contravening  my  duty,.  I  shall  be  happy  to 
have  it  in  my  power  to  give  fresh  proofs  of  my 
sympathy  with  the  glorious  name  which  you  bear. 

“  Accept,  &c.  “  A.  Thiers.” 

During  the  course  of  the  negotiations,  he  was  in¬ 
formed  that  the  only  condition  upon  which  the  gov¬ 
ernment  would  sanction  his  release,  was  a  positive 
renunciation  on  his  part,  of  all  right  to  the  throne  of 
France,  and  a  written  pledge  never  again  to  make  war 
against  the  dynasty  of  Louis  Philippe.  Such  a  pledge 
he  refused  to  give;  and,  finding  the  negotiations  for 
his  release  to  be  hopeless,  he  determined  to  cut  tbe 
Gordian  knot  by  making  his  escape,  in  disguise — in 
the  disguise  of  an  honest  workman.  This  project  he 
carried  into  effect  very  cleverly,  on  Monday,  May  25, 
184:6,  by  the  aid  of  his  faithful  friend,  Dr.  Conneau, 
and  his  valet,  Thelin.  The  Prince  gives  the  following 
account  of  the  proceeding,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned, 
in  a  letter,  addressed  to  M.  de  George,  the  editor  of 
a  paper,  for  which  he  had  often  written  while  in 
confinement : 

“My  Dear  M.  de  George, — My  desire  to  see  my 
father  once  more  in  this  world,  made  me  attempt  the 
boldest  enterprise  I  ever  engaged  in.  It  required  more 
resolution  and  courage  on  my  part  than  at  Strasbourg 
and  Boulogne,  for  I  was  determined  not  to  submit  to  the 
ridicule  that  attaches  to  those  who  are  arrested  escap¬ 
ing  under  a  disguise ;  and  a  failure  I  could  not  have 
endured.  The  following  are  the  particulars  of  my 
escape :  — 

“You  know  that  the  fort  was  guarded  by  four  hun¬ 
dred  men,  who  furnished  daily  sixty  soldiers,  placed  as 
sentries  outside  the  walls.  Moreover,  the  principal  gate 
of  the  prison  was  guarded  by  three  jailers,  two  of 
whom  were  constantly  on  duty.  It  was  necessary  that 


ESCAPE  OF  LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 


243 


L  should  first  elude  their  vigilance,  afterward  traverse 
;Le  inside  court,  before  the  windows  of  the  command- 
mt’s  residence;  and  arriving  there,  I  should  be  obliged 
;o  pass  by  a  gate  which  was  guarded  by  soldiers. 

“Not  wishing  to  communicate  my  design  to  any  one, 
t  was  necessary  to  disguise  myself.  As  several  rooms 
n  the  part  of  the  building  I  occupied  were  undergoing 
•epairs,  it  was  not  difficult  to  assume  the  dress  of  a 
Workman.  My  good  and  faithful  valet,  Charles  Thelin, 
procured  a  smock-frock  and  a  pair  of  sabots,  (wooden 
hoes,)  and,  after  shaving  off  my  moustaches,  I  took  a 
blank  on  my  shoulders. 

“On  Monday  morning  I  saw  the  workmen  enter, 
it  half-past  eight  o’clock.  Charles  took  them  some 
1  rink,  in  order  that  I  should  not  meet  any  of  them  on 
ny  passage.  lie  was  also  to  call  one  of  the  gard¬ 
ens  (turnkeys,)  while  Dr.  Conneau  conversed  with  the 
•tliers.  Nevertheless,  I  had  scarcely  got  out  of  my 
bom  before  I  was  accosted  by  a  workman,  who  took 
le  for  one  of  his  comrades,  and,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
tairs  I  found  myself  in  front  of  the  keeper.  Fortu- 
ately,  I  placed  the  plank  1  was  carrying  before  my 
ice,  and  succeeded  in  reaching  the  yard.  Whenever 
passed  a  sentinel,  or  any  other  person,  I  always  kept 
le  plank  before  my  face. 

“Passing  before  the  first  sentinel,  I  let  my  pipe 
til.  and  stopped  to  pick  up  the  bits.  There  I  met 
ie  officer  on  duty,  but,  as  he  was  reading  a  letter,  he 
id  not  pay  attention  to  me.  The  soldiers  at  the 
uard-house  appeared  surprised  at  my  dress,  and  a 
rummer  turned  round  several  times  to  look  at  me.  I 
iext  met  some  workmen,  who  looked  very  attentively 
;  me.  I  placed  the  plank  before  my  face,  but  they 
opeared  to  be  so  curious,  that  I  thought  I  should 
aver  escape  them,  until  I  heard  them  cry,  ‘  Oh !  it  is 
crnard !  ’ 

“Once  outside,  I  walked  quickly  toward  the  road  of 
;.  Quentin.  Charles,  who,  the  day  before,  had  en- 
iged  a  carriage,  shortly  overtook  me,  and  we  arrived 
St.  Quentin.  I  passed  through  the  town  on  foot, 
‘ter  having  thrown  off  my  smock-frock.  Charles 


244  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 

procured  a  post-chaise,  under  pretext  of  going  to  Cara 
brai.  We  arrived,  without  meeting  with  any  obstacles 
at  Valenciennes,  where  I  took  the  railway.  I  hac 
procured  a  Belgian  passport,  but  nowhere  was  I  askec 
to  show  it. 

“  During  my  escape,  Dr.  Conneau,  always  so  de 
voted  to  me,  remained  in  prison,  and  caused  them  t( 
believe  I  was  ill,  in  order  to  give  me  time  to  reach  tin 
frontier.  It  wTas  necessary,  before  I  could  be  per 
suaded  to  quit  France,  to  be  convinced  that  the  gov 
eminent  would  never  set  me  at  liberty,  unless  I  woulc 
consent  to  dishonor  myself.  It  was  also  a  matter  oi 
duty  that  I  should  exert  all  my  powers  to  be  able  tc 
console  my  father  in  his  old  age. 

“Adieu,  my  dear  M.  de  George;  although  free,  I 
feel  myself  to  be  most  unhappy.  Receive  the  assur 
ance  of  my  sincere  friendship,  and,  if  you  are  able 
endeavor  to  be  useful  to  my  kind  Conneau. 

“Napoleon  Louis.” 

Dr.  Conneau,  whose  five  years  of  imprisonment  had 
at  this  time  expired,  was  a  free  agent  in  the  affair: 
and  the  noble  disinterestedness  of  his  character  maj 
be  judged  of  from  the  fact  that,  by  aiding  his  patron’s 
escape,  he  pdaced  himself  again  in  the  hands  of  tin 
law  for  an  indefinite  period.  Dr.  Conneau,  then,  tc 
whose  affectionate  devotion  it  is  impossible  to  refuse  s 
tribute  of  admiration,  gives  the  following  account  of 
the  Prince’s  escape,  and  of  the  anxious  moments  which 
he,  the  doctor,  passed  during  the  after  part  of  the  day 
when,  instead  of  going  away  himself,  as  he  was  free  tc 
do,  he  remained  in  the  fortress,  in  order  to  conceal,  bj 
every  maneuver  ingenuity  could  suggest,  the  fact  of 
the  Prince’s  escape  until  the  latest  possible  moment 
At  his  trial  for  this  offense,  he  said  : — 

“  I  tried  to  conceal  the  departure  of  the  Prince,  ii 


STRATAGEM  OF  DR.  CONNEAU. 


245 


)rder  to  give  him  time  to  escape.  I  was  anxious,  if 
oossible,  in  this  way  to  gain  at  least  twenty-four  hours. 
,L  first  of  all  closed  the  door  leading  from  the  Prince’s 
chamber  into  the  saloon.  I  kindled  a  strong  fire,  al- 
• hough,  in  fact,  the  weather  was  extremely  hot,  to 
lountenance  the  supposition  that  the  Prince  was  ill ; 
vith  the  same  intent  I  put  the  coffee-pot  on  the  fire, 
ind  told  the  man-of-all-work  that  the  Prince  was  indis¬ 
posed.  About  eight  o’clock,  a  packet  of  violet  plants 
irrived  by  the  diligence.  I  told  the  keeper  to  fill  some 
jots  with  earth,  and  prevented  him  from  entering  the 
’rince’s  saloon.  About  half-past  eight  o'clock  the 
nan-of-all-work  came  and  asked  me  where  we  would 
ireakfast.  ‘  In  my  room,’ I  replied.  ‘I  shall  fetch  the 
arge  table,’  he  said.  I  answered,  ‘That  is  unnecessary  ; 
he  General  is  ill,  and  will  not  breakfast  with  us.’ 

“My  intention  was,  in  this  manner,  to  push  off  fur- 
her  knowledge  till  the  next  day.  I  said  the  Prince 
ad  taken  medicine.  It  was  absolutely  necessary  that 
should  be  taken  —  accordingly  I  took  it  myself.  I 
itended  to  have  given  him  a  bath  —  this  was  itnpossi- 
le,  on  account  of  the  workmen.  I  then  thought  of  an 
metic,  and  attempted  myself  to  perform  the  conse- 
uent  functions;  but  that  was  impossible.  I  then  took 
)ine  coffee  and  threw  it  into  a  pot  of  water,  with  some 
umbs  of  bread,  and  added  nitric  acid,  which  pro- 
iced  a  very  disagreeable  smell;  so  that  our  man-of- 
1-work  might  be  persuaded  that  the  Prince  was 
ally  ill. 

“About  half-past  twelve  I  saw  the  commandant  for 
e  second  time,  and  informed  him  that  the  Prince  was 
unewhat  easier.  The  commandant  looked  at  the 
irks,  and  offered  to  send  me  his  servant,  in  conse- 
uence  of  Thelin’s  absence.  About  one  o’clock  I  told 
daplace  to  come  and  make  the  Prince’s  bed.  -Every 
Ine  that  I  came  out  of  the  small  saloon,  in  which  the 
.  ince  was  supposed  to  be  lying  on  a  sofa,  I  pretended 
t  be  speaking  to  him  ;  the  man-of-all-work  did  not 
lar  me  —  if  his  ears  had  been  at  all  delicate,  he  would 
1  ve  been  able  perfectly  to  hear  me  speaking. 

“The  day  passed  on  very  well  till  a  quarter  past 


246 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  I1IS  TIMES. 


seven  o’clock.  At  this  moment  the  commandant  ei 
tered,  with  an  air  somewhat  stern.  ‘The  Prince  is 
little  better,  Commandant.’  ‘If,’  he  exclaimed,  ‘th 
Prince  is  still  ill,  I  must  speak  to  him  —  I  must  spea 
to  the  Prince!’  I  had  prepared  a  large  stuffed  figun 
and  laid  it  in  the  Prince’s  bed,  with  the  head  restin 
upon  the  pillow.  I  called  the  Prince  —  who,  naturall 
enough,  made  no  reply.  I  retired  toward  the  cou 
mandant,  and  indicated  to  him,  by  a  sign,  that  tb 
Prince  was  asleep.  This  did  not  satisfy  him.  He  si 
down  in  the  saloon,  saying,  ‘The  Prince  will  not  slee 
forever  —  I  will  wait.’ 

“He  remarked  to  me,  that  the  time  of  the  arrival  o 
the  diligence  was  passed,  and  expressed  his  wonde 
that  Tlielin  was  not  returned  ;  I  explained  to  him  ths 
he  had  taken  a  cabriolet.  The  drum  beat,  and  th 
commandant  rose  and  said,  ‘The  Prince  has  moved  i 
his  bed  ;  he  is  waking  up.’ 

“The  commandant  stretched  his  ear,  but  did  not hea 
him  breathe.  I  did  the  same,  and  said,  ‘Let  him  slee 
on.’  He  drew  near  the  bed,  and  found  a  stuffed  figurt 
He  immediately  turned  toward  me  and  said,  ‘Th 
Prince  is  gone!  At  what  hour?’  ‘At  seven  in  th 
morning.’  ‘  Who  were  the  persons  on  guard  ?’  ‘I  knoi 
nothing.’  These  were  the  only  words  which  wer 
interchanged  between  us :  the  commandant  left  th 

CJ 

room.” 

A  brief  imprisonment  of  only  three  months  wa 
imposed  upon  Dr.  Conneau  for  his  participation  in  th 
escape  of  Louis  Napoleon.  Thelin,  for  some  indis 
creet  and  not  very  respectful  language  respecting  tlij 
authorities,  on  his  trial,  was  sentenced  to  six  month 
imprisonment.  The  commandant  of  the  fortress  wa 
acquitted.  After  arriving  in  London,  the  Prince  wrot 
to  the  French  embassador  in  England,  and  to  a  memhe 
of  the  British  ministry,  explaining  his  motives  an< 
intentions.  To  the  French  embassador  he  said— “L 


DEATH  OF  THE  COUNT  ST.  LEU. 


247 


quitting  my  prison,  I  have  not  been  actuated  by  any 
idea  of  renewing  against  the  French  government  a  war 
which  has  been  so  disastrous  to  me,  but  only  to  be 
enabled  to  visit  my  aged  father.”  He  requested  the 
embassador  to  inform  the  king  of  his  peaceable  inten¬ 
tions,  and  expressed  the  hope  that  this  voluntary 
issurance  would  hasten  the  liberation  of  those  of  his 
friends  who  still  remained  in  prison. 

The  immediate  purpose  of  Louis  Napoleon’s  escape 
from  prison  —  to  attend  by  the  deathbed  of  his  father  — 
ivas  not  attained,  for  the  Austrian  embassador  at  Lon- 
lon,  who  was  also  the  representative  of  Tuscany,  where 
he  Count  of  St.  Leu  was  residing,  positively  refused 
o  sign  his  passport.  Application  was  then  made  to 
Leopold,  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  but  he  replied  that 
he  influence  of  France  compelled  him  to  decline  per- 
nitting  Louis  FLapoleon  to  visit  his  father.  The  Count 
)f  St.  Leu  had  been  living,  for  some  weeks,  in  the  hope 
)f  at  length  dying  in  his  son’s  arms.  lie  survived, 
ndy  a  short  time,  the  intelligence  that  this  consolation 
vas  denied  to  him.  lie  died  on  the  25th  of  July,  1S46. 


CHAPTER  V. 


REVOLUTION  OF  1848. 

On  Monday,  February  21,  1848,  it  appeared  t< 
every  casual  observer,  that  there  existed  in  Europe  s 
powerful  kingdom  called  France.  Its  monarch,  sur 
rounded  by  an  accomplished  and  numerous  family 
supported  by  a  vast  army  ;  sustained  by  an  almos 
unanimous  Chamber  of  Deputies ;  possessing  the  cor 
dial  attachment  of  the  House  of  Peers  ;  having  ai 
overwhelming  force  of  friends  among  the  moneye* 
classes;  and  with  an  electoral  body,  an  immense  ma 
jority  of  whom  wrere  enthusiastic  adherents'  to  his  dyj 
nasty,  and  his  policy  ;  he  seemed  to  be  placed  beyon* 
the  reach  of  misfortune.  The  accidental  whim  of  a  me 
ment,  in  the  Revolution  of  1830,  had  made  this  man  . 
king.  That  Revolution  had  been  effected  less  by  th 
organized  efforts  of  the  republicans,  than  by  the  spot 
taneous  indignation  of  the  middle  classes,  at  the  des 
potic  policy  pursued  by  the  government  of  Charles  5 
The  aristocracy  were  more  powerful  than  the  repul 
licans,  and  declared  for  another  monarchy ;  but  t 
appease  the  disappointment  of  the  latter  class,  till 
monarchy,  it  was  said,  should  be  one  surrounded  b 
democratic  institutions,  and  Louis  Philippe  was  to  b 
a  citizen-king!  The  republicans  were  never  reconcile! 
to  this  defeat.  They,  and  the  majority  of  the  workini 


REVIEW  OF  LOUIS  PHILIPPE’S  REIGN. 


249 


classes,  had  fought  for  a  republic,  and  they  looked 
upon  themselves  as  deceived,  tricked  and  ignomini- 
ously  vanquished.  But  they  were  not  disheartened. 
After  a  few  unorganized  attempts  at  revolution,  they 
gave  up,  for  the  time,  the  system  of  insurrectionary 
movements,  and  determined  to  adhere  to  that  far  surer 
instrument,  the  pen,  which  they  relied  on  to  ultimately 
give  them  a  complete  victory.  They  wrote,  talked, 
and  industriously  spread  their  doctrines.  They  also 
counted  much  on  the  errors  of  those  in  power.  They 
were  confident  that  Louis  Philippe,  as  soon  as  he 
should  feel  himself  secure  on  the  throne,  would  labor 
for  his  own  aggrandizement,  rather  than  for  the  welfare 
of  France,  and  that  the  unpopularity  and  hatred  at¬ 
tendant  upon  his  administration  would  strengthen  the 
republican  ranks.  And  they  were  right.  While  the 
spirit  of  insurrection  was  yet  alive,  Louis  Philippe 
aimed  at  conciliating  the  republicans ;  but  no  sooner 
was  this  crushed,  than  he  exhibited  the  same  tenden¬ 
cies  that  had  characterized  the  Bourbon  dynasty.  His 
policy  was  then  to  turn  back  the  tide  of  democracy, 
and  firmly  seat  his  heirs  on  the  throne  of  France. 
His  first  step  was  to  separate  from  the  republicans  who 
had  been  the  instruments  of  his  elevation.  Some  he 
treated  coldly;  he  dismissed  others  from  office.  With 
the  good  Lafayette  he  provoked  an  unwarrantable 
quarrel. 

The  strength  thus  lost  he  endeavored  to  replace  by 
the  actual  purchase  of  new  adherents.  All  the  arts  of 
corruption  were  put  in  practice.  Some  persons,  less 
scrupulous  than  ambitious,  rushed  forward  and  met 
bribery  half  way  —  others,  who  held  out  for  a  time, 


250 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


were  finally  swept  along  by  the  current.  Every  mar 
of  literary  reputation,  who  would  sell  himself  to  the 
government,  was  gorged  with  offices  and  loaded  with 
honorary  decorations.  Every  rising  young  man,  of 
the  least  promise,  was  lured  to  the  same  dishonorable 
distinction.  Those  only  could  resist  the  seduction 
whose  virtue  was  superior  to  their  eagerness  for  ad¬ 
vancement.  The  deplorable  effect  of  this  policy  was 
soon  evinced  by  the  profligate  immorality  which  was 
rapidly  spreading  among  the  ablest  and  most  accom¬ 
plished  young  men  of  France.  The  examples  of  ser¬ 
vility,  baseness  and  cupidity,  shamelessly  exhibited 
in  high  places,  were  followed  with  frightful  rapidity 
among  all  classes  of  society.  It  was  notorious  in 
France,  that  every  electoral  body,  however  small  — 
with  rare  exceptions  —  left  wholly  uninfluenced,  would 
elect  men  of  liberal  views,  and  favorable  to  the  gradual 
progress  of  reform.  But  reform  was  not  in  accordance 
with  the  views  of  Louis  Philippe.  With  an  aristoc¬ 
racy  of  electors  —  there  being  less  than  250,000  voters, 
out  of  more  than  5,000,000  adult  males — Louis  Philippe 
and  his  partizans  found  it  necessary  to  resort  to  bribery 
to  obtain  the  support  of  these  constituencies.  There 
were  more  than  400,000  offices,  great  and  small,  at  the 
disposal  of  the  government.  These,  with  grants  of 
almost  innumerable  privileges,  loans,  and  the  direct 
purchase  of  votes,  enabled  the  government  to  insure 
to  itself  a  majority  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies.  In 
the  Chambers,  out  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  members, 
two  hundred  held  profitable  places  under  government, 
and  were,  of  course,  always  subservient  to  the  wishes 
of  the  king. 


CHARACTER  OF  LOUIS  PHILIPPE. 


251 


The  life  of  Louis  Philippe  was  one  of  cold  and  un¬ 
deviating  selfishness.  His  administration  was  one  long 
intrigue  for  the  advancement  of  his  family  and  him¬ 
self  ;  and  sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  the  marriage  of 
the  Duke  of  Montpensier  with  the  sister  of  the  Spanish 
queen,  the  trickery  was  so  obvious,  and  the  breach  of 
faith  so  gross,  that  his  majesty  could  scarcely  be  said 
to  appear  in  the  light  of  an  honorable  statesman.  He 
met  with  the  usual  luck  of  the  crafty,  and  it  is  now 
apparent  that  he  overreached  himself ;  for  he  forfeited 
the  good  will  of  England,  and  the  respect  of  his  own 
subjects,  and  thus  weakened  the  moral  basis  of  his 
dynasty,  without  at  all  increasing  its  material  sup¬ 
ports.  During  a  reign  of  seventeen  years,  in  which, 
in  spite  of  constitutional  restrictions,  his  real  authority 
and  influence  were  immense,  he  did  little  for  his  coun¬ 
try,  little  for  the  moral  and  intellectual  elevation  of 
the  people,  and  nothing  for  the  gradual  improvement 
of  the  political  institutions  of  the  kingdom.  His  time 
and  attention  were  absorbed  in  seeking  splendid  for¬ 
eign  alliances  for  his  children ;  in  maneuvering  to 
obtain  a  pliant  majority  in  the  Chambers ;  and  in 
endeavors  to  keep  those  ministers  at  the  head  of  affairs 
who  would  second  most  heartily  his  private  designs. 

In  favor  of  Louis  Philippe  it  may  be  said,  that  he 
was  unwilling  to  shed  blood  even  for  the  gravest 
political  crimes,  and  that  he  •was  sincerely  desirous  of 
maintaining  the  peace  of  Europe.  Credit  for  these 
virtues  are  due  to  him,  though  both  tended  to  the 
security  of  his  throne.  Prosperity  is  always  attendant 
upon  peace,  and  during  the  reign  of  Louis  Philippe, 
France  was  eminently  prosperous.  The  condition  of 


252  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIME3. 

all  classes  of  its  population  greatly  improved.  At 
peace  with  the  whole  civilized  world,  its  commerce 
and  manufactures  were  flourishing;  its  peasantry 
comfortable  and  unusually  contented ;  and  although 
taxation  was  enormous,  it  was  equally  distributed,  no 
class  being  exempted  from  its  pressure,  but  all  shar¬ 
ing  the  burden  alike.  All  were  equal  before  the  law, 
and  toleration  of  opinion,  in  politics  or  religion,  was 
complete. 

But  the  prosperity  of  the  country  finally  met  a  check 
in  the  frightful  increase  of  taxation.  In  1847,  the  taxes 
amounted  to  1300,000,000.  This  amount  had  been 
swelled  by  the  system  of  creating  numerous  unneces¬ 
sary  offices  to  buy  votes,  but  it  was  mostly  attributable 
to  the  people  themselves.  The  war  in  Algiers,  which 
was  solely  a  sacrifice  to  the  popular  appetite  for  mili¬ 
tary  glory  and  foreign  possessions,  constituted  a  con¬ 
tinual  and  prodigious  drain  upon  the  treasury.  Louis 
Philippe  dared  not  abandon  his  costly  and  unprofit¬ 
able  possession  in  Africa.  The  people  would  not  hear 
of  it ;  and  so  an  army  of  a  hundred  thousand  men 
was  maintained  there,  to  wage  an  inglorious  war  with 
a  few  Arabs,  and  to  make  useless  expeditions  into  the 
desert. 

For  some  years,  the  subject  of  electoral  reform  had 
been  agitated  among  the  people.  Scarcely  one  in  forty 
of  the  adult  male  population  of  France  were  voters. 
In  the  session  of  the  Chambers  for  1846,  when  allusion 
was  made  to  this  topic  by  some  of  the  deputies,  Guizot 
tauntingly  told  them  that  the  people  did  not  desire 
such  a  reform,  as  no  petitions  for  it  had  been  presented. 
As  avowed  political  meetings  were  prohibited  because 


THE  REFORM  BANQUETS. 


253 


they  had  been  so  often  made  a  cloak  for  insurrections, 
the  people  prepared  to  bold  a  series  of  banquets  in 
different  parts  of  the  country,  at  which  the  toasts  and 
speeches  should  bear  entirely  on  the  question  of  the 
extension  of  the  elective  franchise.  This  scheme  was 
carried  into  effect.  During  the  summer  of  1847, 
seventy  banquets  were  held  in  various  parts  of  the 
country,  attended  by  large  numbers  of  electors.  They 
all  passed  oft'  quietly,  but  they  gave  evidence  that  pub¬ 
lic  opinion  was  strongly  in  favor  of  reform.  At  some 
of  these  banquets,  the  usual  toast  of  “the  King”  was 
omitted,  and  one  in  favor  of  universal  suffrage  and  the 
unlimited  liberty  of  the  press  was  substituted.  About 
the  middle  of  September,  the  journeymen  printers  of 
Paris  made  the  usual  arrangements  to  celebrate  their 
annual  dinner.  For  several  years,  not  the  slightest 
opposition  had  been  offered  to  their  so  doing,  particu¬ 
larly  as  the  banquet  was  of  a  social  and  private  char 
acter,  wholly  unconnected  with  politics.  But  already 
had  ministers  and  their  friends  entered  upon  the  false 
and  fatal  path  which  led  them  to  destruction.  The 
banquet  was  to  have  taken  place  at  a  restaurant.  Just 
as  the  body  of  workmen  were  about  to  sit  down,  a 
commissary  of  police  ordered  them  to  disperse.  Being 
backed,  as  the  man  in  office  was,  by  municipal  guards 
and  soldiers,  the  artisans,  after  protest,  obeyed ;  but 
determined  not  to  be  balked  of  their  feast,  demanded 
permission  of  a  printer,  known  for  his  liberal  opinions, 
to  meet  on  his  private  premises,  outside  the  town. 
The  printer  acceded,  and  as  the  law  distinctly  allows 
meetings  in  a  private  house,  on  the  proprietor's  own 
responsibility,  no  fear  was  felt  for  the  result.  But, 


254  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

with  the  idea  which  now  actuated  the  prefect  of  police, 
guided,  as  he  was,  by  the  cabinet,  legality  was  of  little 
moment.  Scarcely  had  the  printers  re-assembled  at 
the  house  which  had  been  generously  placed  at  their 
disposal,  ere  some  hundreds  of  soldiers,  municipal 
guards,  and  a  commissary  of  police,  presented  them¬ 
selves  anew,  entered  the  printer’s  house,  and  forcibly 
dispersed  the  assembly.  Other  assemblies  were  dis¬ 
solved  in  the  same  arbitrary  and  illegal  manner. 

The  king’s  speech,  at  the  opening  of  the  Chambers, 
December  28,  1847,  closed  with  a  contemptuous  allu¬ 
sion  to  these  banquets.  On  the  19th  of  the  following 
January,  the  address  of  the  Peers,  in  reply  to  the 
king’s  speech,  was  carried  by  a  large  majority.  One 
of  the  paragraphs  of  the  address  was  directed  against 
the  reform  banquets.  “  Noisy  manifestations,  (said  the 
Peers,)  in  which  are  blindly  mingled  vague  ideas  of 
reform  and  of  progress,  passions  hostile  to  our  mon¬ 
archical  constitution,  opinions  subversive  of  social 
order,  and  detestable  reminiscences,  have  rather  dis¬ 
quieted  than  convinced  men.”  During  the  debates  on 
this  address,  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  petitions 
were  presented  for  electoral  and  parliamentary  reform. 

The  severe  allusion  to  these  banquets  in  the  king’s 
speech,  and  the  great  majority  which  supported  the 
address  that  echoed  this  condemnation  of  them,  in¬ 
creased  the  fury  of  the  opposition,  as  it  was  clear  that 
the  ministry  were  firm,  and  that  there  was  no  chance 
of  unseating  them  by  parliamentary  weapons  alone. 
They  resolved,  therefore,  though  with  hesitation  and 
many  misgivings,  to  agitate  the  people  still  further. 
Hitherto,  the  banquets  had  been  held  only  in  the 


REFORM  BANQUET  IN  PARIS. 


255 


provinces,  and  after  all  the  inflammatory  speeches  that 
had  been  made  at  them,  not  more  than  200,000  per¬ 
sons,  out  of  a  population  of  more  than  31,000,000,  had 
been  induced  to  petition  for  reform.  But  the  Parisians 
■<vere  more  excitable  and  dangerous,  and  so  it  was  de¬ 
termined  to  hold  a  monster  banquet  in  the  capital,  to 
be  preceded  by  a  grand  procession,  —  a  measure  which 
was  almost  sure  to  bring  the  republicans  into  open 
revolt.  The  mere  announcement  of  a  great  popular 
demonstration  was  enough  to  cause  the  desperate  re¬ 
publicans  to  furbish  up  their  arms,  and  concert  all  the 
measures  necessary  for  the  overthrow  of  the  monarchy. 
The  ministers  expressed  their  intention  of  suppressing 
the  banquet.  They  even  declared  that  there  should  be 
no  reform.  Guizot,  the  prime  minister,  emphatically 
repeated  his  determination  to  put  down  all  public 
demonstrations  of  opinion,  in  the  shape  of  reform  ban¬ 
quets.  The  friends  of  the  measure  met  this  declaration 
by  expressing  their  determination  to  attend  the  ban¬ 
quet  which  had  already  been  announced,  and  defying 
the  minister  to  make  good  his  threat  —  no  law  existing 
against  a  public  meeting  for  any  peaceable  and  consti¬ 
tutional  object.  The  conduct  of  the  minister  was  inju¬ 
dicious  in  the  extreme.  He  had  committed  himself  to 
a  course,  the  tendency  of  which  was  utterly  destructive 
of  public  liberty.  Its  illegality  was  obvious,  but  illegal 
or  not,  it  became  the  duty  of  every  man  not  in  favor 
of  absolutism,  to  make  a  stand  against  such  an  insuf¬ 
ferable  assumption  of  authority.  To  yield  would  have 
been  to  tamely  bare  the  neck  to  the  yoke  of  despotism, 
and  to  see  the  last  vestiges  of  freedom  trodden  under 
foot.  To  try  the  question,  it  was  decided  that  the 


256 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  ANl)  HIS  TIMES. 


reform  banquet,  which  had  been  postponed  from  time 
to  time,  waiting  the  course  of  events,  should  take  a 
more  imposing  form,  to  which  the  independent  mem¬ 
bers  of  both  Chambers,  and  the  public  general!)', 
should  be  invited.  The  object  being  a  pacific  demon¬ 
stration  of  opinion,  it  was  arranged,  that  to  avoid  all 
danger  of  collision  with  the  authorities,  the  banquet 
should  not  be  held  in  Paris  itself,  but  in  the  suburbs ; 
and  to  place  the  legality  of  the  meeting  beyond  all 
doubt,  by  giving  it  as  much  as  possible  the  character 
of  a  private  party,  the  number  of  guests  was  limited 
to  1500,  and  no  person  not  invited  was  to  be  admitted. 
Nearly  one  hundred  Deputies,  and  a  few  members  of 
the  Chamber  of  Peers,  signified  their  intention  to  be 
present. 

The  day  fixed  for  the  banquet  was  Tuesday,  Febru¬ 
ary  22,  1848,  and  it  was  not  until  Monday  —  the  day 
preceding  —  that  the  government  finally  determined 
to  attempt  its  suppression.  The  first  plan  of  Guizot 
was  to  allow  the  banquet  to  proceed,  under  protest. 
A  civil  officer  was  to  be  sent  to  verify  the  fact  of  the 
meeting,  and  afterward  a  crown  prosecution  was  to  be 
commenced  against  its  originators;  but  on  Monday  the 
court  took  offense  or  alarm  at  an  advertisement  and 
programme,  which  appeared  in  the  opposition  journals, 
of  a  contemplated  procession  to  the  place  of  meeting ; 
to  consist  of  the  guests  invited  to  the  banquet,  officers, 
and  soldiers  of  the  National  Guards  —  corresponding 
very  nearly  to  the  militia  of  our  own  country  —  with 
students  and  others,  who  were  expected  to  act  as  an 
escort.  They  were  to  be  so  marshaled  that  the  Na¬ 
tional  Guards,  though  without  arms,  should  appear  to 


REFORM  BANQUET  FORBIDDEN. 


257 


surround  and  escort  the  other  portions  of  the  assem¬ 
blage.  The  plan  was  a  very  skillful  one,  for  the  gov- 
ernment  dared  not  provoke  any  collision  of  the  troops 
of  the  line  with  the  National  Guards,  who  were  in  fact 
the  chief  support  of  the  monarchy  ;  and  though  but  a 
small  portion  of  this  civic  militia  would  probably  obey 
such  an  irregular  summons,  a  few  of  them  skillfully 
distributed  around  'the  procession,  would  effectually 
shield  it  from  any  attack  by  the  regular  soldiery. 

Monday  evening  arrived.  The  public  places  were 
all  filled  with  anxious  crowds.  The  evening  papers 
were  looked  for,  half  in  terror,  half  in  hope.  Knots  of 
men,  of  all  classes,  conversed  in  under  tones,  while 
others  read  aloud  extracts  from  the  papers,  by  torch¬ 
light.  Between  nine  and  ten  o’clock,  when,  of  course, 
it  was  too  late  to  prevent  the  assembling  of  crowds 
the  next  day  to  witness  the  procession,  —  the  banquet 
having  been  the  sole  theme  of  conversation  for  a  fort¬ 
night  previous, — proclamations  were  posted  about  the 
streets  by  the  police,  announcing  that  no  banquet  or 
procession  would  be  permitted,  and  cautioning  the 
public  against  tumultuous  assemblages  in  the  streets. 
Wherever  these  documents  were  seen,  the  people  col¬ 
lected  around  while  one  man  would  read  their  con¬ 
tents  to  the  excited  populace.  They  were  then  torn 
down  and  trampled  under  foot.  Several  republicans 
moved  silently  from  group  to  group,  sounding  the 
disposition  of  the  people,  who,  artizans,  shopkeepers, 
professional  men,  all  showed  but  one  desire — that  of 
resistance.  In  restaurants,  in  reading  rooms,  the  prob¬ 
able  results  of  a  struggle  were  calculated,  and  some 
asserted,  with  confidence,  that  the  troops  were  well 


258 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


disposed  toward  the  people.  Many  a  student,  many  an 
artisan,  many  an  enthusiastic  republican,  passed  the 
night  in  cleaning  his  arms  and  making  ball  cartridges 
preparing  for  an  emergency.  That  evening,  the  trains 
which  left  Paris  were  unusually  full ;  the  more  foresee¬ 
ing  and  cautious  among  foreigners  and  rich  citizens, 
started  to  leave  the  country,  or  seek  refuge  in  their 
country-houses.  Amid  moderate  men,  who  wished 
well  to  the  dynasty,  and  even  to  the  cabinet,  if  they 
would  hut  make  concession  to  the  voice  of  public 
opinion,  stupefaction,  terror  and  sorrow  were  the 
paramount  feelings. 

A  wide  difference  of  opinion  arose  among  the  ban¬ 
quet  committee  in  regard  to  obeying  the  proclama¬ 
tions.  A  minority  were  inclined  to  form  the  procession 
at  all  hazards  ;  but  it  was  finally  agreed  that  the  meet¬ 
ing  should  be  given  up  —  that  the  public  should  be 
urged  to  maintain  a  peaceable  attitude,  so  as  to  put 
the  government  wholly  in  the  wrong  —  and  that  the 
late  discussion  of  the  question  in  the  Chambers  should 
be  renewed  in  a  form  that  would  lead  either  to  a  dis¬ 
solution,  and  then  bring  it  before  the  electors,  or  to  a 
change  of  the  cabinet.  Articles  of  impeachment  were 
therefore  to  be  moved  against  the  ministry.  It  was 
not  expected  that  these  would  be  carried,  but  they 
■would  suffice  to  create  an  agitation  that  would  force 
the  government  to  give  way  ;  or,  failing  to  do  so,  the 
opposition,  by  resigning  in  a  body,  had  the  power  in 
their  hands  of  an  appeal  to  the  people. 

In  the  morning,  a  formal  announcement  that  the 
banquet  was  deferred,  appeared  in  the  papers,  and]  the 
government  having  been  assured  that  no  attempt  would 


THE  PEOPLE  IX  THE  STREETS. 


259 


be  made  to  form  a  procession,  the  orders  that  had  been 
given  to  the  troops  of  the  line  to  occupy  the  ground 
and  all  the  avenues  leading  to  the  place  of  meeting, 
were  countermanded.  Picquets,  only,  were  stationed 
in  places  where  crowds  might  be  expected  to  assemble, 
sufficient,  it  was  presumed,  to  disperse  a  mob;  but  no 
serious  disturbance  was  anticipated,  either  by  the 
ministry  or  its  opponents.  The  proclamations  of  the 
government,  however,  and  the  announcement  of  the 
opposition  journals,  came  too  late.  They  had  not  been 
read  by  the  multitudes  of  the  working  class,  who  had 
previously  prepared  for  a  holiday,  and  who,  even  if 
they  had  read  the  notices,  were  little  inclined  to  be 
deprived  of  their  anticipated  enjoyment.  The  major¬ 
ity  of  these  might  be  peaceably  disposed,  but  their 
presence  in  the  streets  was  necessarily  calculated  to 
render  formidable  the  smaller  number  bent  upon 
mischief,  if  an  opportunity  should  arise. 

The  morning  of  the  22d  of  February  was  wet  and 
gloomy,  but  the  streets  were  crowded  from  an  early 
hour.  Crowds  of  people  "began  to  move  toward  the 
Madeleine  church,  in  front  of  which  the  procession  was 
to  have  been  formed.  Many  were  not  aware  that  the 
banquet  was  given  up,  and  went  to  witness  the  parade, 
while  those  who  knew  that  the'  intention  of  holding  the 
meeting  had  been  abandoned,  went  with  a  vague  desire 
to  see  what  would  happen.  Others,  doubtless,  went 
with  a  settled  determination  to  provoke  an  insurrec¬ 
tion.  About  midday  a  crowd  surrounded  the  Cham¬ 
ber  of  Deputies,  which  "was  soon  protected  against  any 
risk  of  attack.  Some  of  the  windows  of  the  residence 
of  the  minister  of  foreign  affairs  were  broken,  and 


260 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  ANT)  1118  TIMES, 


“Down  with  Guizot,”  was  the  cry ;  but  in  a  short  time 
the  house  was  surrounded  with  troops.  The  crowd 
and  agitation  went  on  increasing,  and  in  some  parts 
of  the  city  the  shops  were  closed.  The  multitude 
around  the  Madeleine  church  became  formidable  in 
numbers,  though  no  symptoms  of  disorder  or  violence 
were  manifested.  In  fact,  with  few  exceptions,  the 
crowd,  amid  whom  were  many  well  dressed  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  were  excessively  good  humored.  The  ma¬ 
jority  seemed  persuaded  that  the  vast  display  of  un¬ 
armed  Parisians,  who  had  turned  out,  would  induce 
the  minority  to  give  way.  Whatever  disturbances 
arose,  were  the  result  of  the  confusion  and  injuries 
inflicted  by  dense  masses  of  people  moving  impulsively 
to  and  fro,  as  they  were  impelled  by  noises  or  rumors 
from  various  portions  of  the  city.  Toward  the  close 
of  the  day  the  excitement  grew  more  intense.  In  some 
cases  where  the  crowds  could  not,  or  did  not,  disperse 
at  the  command  of  the  military,  violence  was  commit¬ 
ted  to  enforce  obedience.  The  aspect  of  the  masses, 
who  moved  away  telling  what  they  had  seen,  was 
threatening.  Consternation  sat  on  the  faces  of  the 
timid — anger  and  bitterness  on  those  of  the  resolute. 
A  few  barricades  were  erected  in  the  streets.  In  the 
evening  the  disturbances  were  increased.  Additional 
barricades  were  erected.  Coaches  and  whatever  else 
the  multitude  could  most  readily  seize,  were  used  for 
this  purpose.  The  drivers,  when  their  vehicles  were 
seized,  led  away  their  horses,  in  many  instances  laugh¬ 
ing.  “We  cannot  carry  you,  (said  one  to  a  gentleman,) 
our  carriages  are  hired  — by  the  nation !  ”  Gunsmiths’ 
shops  were  broken  open  and  their  contents  seized  ;  the 


TIIE  PEOPLE  ASSEMBLE. 


261 


lamps  were  extinguished ;  and  anxiety  for  the  result 
of  the  sanguinary  contest  on  the  morrow,  which  had 
become  inevitable,  spread  through  the  whole  of  Paris. 

The  court  party  alone  were  without  apprehension. 
Although  slumbering  on  the  edge  of  a  volcano,  they 
appeared  unconscious  of  danger.  Eighty  thousand 
troops  of  the  line  had  been  concentrated  in  or  near 
Paris.  The  city  was  surrounded  with  forts,  to  which 
the  troops  could  retire  in  case  of  need,  and  by  which 
all  the  principal  roads  of  the  metropolis  could  be* 
commanded.  A  portion  of  the  National  Guard  were 
known  to  be  disafl’ected,  but  the  general  body,  it  was 
believed,  being  composed  of  the  middle  classes,  who 
had  something  to  lose,  were  disposed  to  assist  in  the 
suppression  of  any  riotous  demonstrations,  that  might 
directly  or  indirectly  affect  property;  and  of  the  readi¬ 
ness  of  the  municipal  guard,  or  armed  police  to  sup¬ 
port  the  government,  no  doubt  was  entertained.  The 
worst  that  wTas  apprehended  was  the  loss  of  a  few  lives, 
and  possibly  the  sacrifice  of  Guizot  and  the  elevation 
of  Thiers,  his  rival. 

On  Wednesday  morning,  the  23d,  crowds  began  to 
assemble  at  an  early  hour  around  the  barricades  that 
had  been  erected  during  the  night.  These  barricades 
Were  attacked  and  partially  destroyed  by  the  munici¬ 
pal  guards  or  the  regular  troops.  The  morning  passed 
in  skirmishes,  in  which  some  were  killed,  and  success 
was  generally  on  the  side  of  the  authorities.  The 
people,  however,  when  dispersed  in  one  place,  assem¬ 
bled  instantly  in  another,  and  rapidly  increased  in 
numbers.  The  National  Guard  were  called  out  in  the 
hope  that  they  would  aid  in  the  suppression  of  the 


262 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


disturbance,  and  use  their  influence  with  the  people  to 
prevent  the  further  effusion  of  blood.  But  when  they 
appeared  in  the  streets,  although  they  at  first  wavered 
as  to  the  course  they  should  follow,  it  soon  became 
evident  they  would  yield  to  the  contagion  of  popular 
enthusiasm,  and  act  with,  rather  than  against  the 
movement.  Many  uttered  the  popular  watchwords 
for  reform,  and  deputations  were  sent  in  from  several 
of  the  legions,  asking  for  the  dismissal  of  Guizot. 
Louis  Philippe’s  heart  failed  him,  and  early  in  the 
afternoon  he  announced  the  appointment  of  M.  Mole, 
as  the  successor  of  Guizot.  Mole  for  Guizot  appeared 
to  the  people  to  be  a  trick  to  deceive  them.  It  is  in¬ 
comprehensible,  had  not  the  whole  conduct  of  Louis 
Philippe  been  that  of  one  bewildered  by  events,  how 
he  could  have  supposed  that  this  would  satisfy  the 
people.  Lie  does  not  seem  to  have  appreciated  the 
extent  of  the  danger.  The  impression  on  his  own 
mind,  and  that  of  his  family,  was,  that  there  was 
nothing  serious.  Thiers  apparently  thought  other¬ 
wise,  and  had  a  long  interview  with  the  Duchess  of 
Orleans,  in  regard  to  the  affair.  The  officers  who 
visited  the  various  parts  of  the  city,  increased  the  fan¬ 
cied  security  of  the  royal  family,  by  reporting  that 
there  was  no  likelihood  of  an  insurrection.  At  the 
eame  time  they  assured  the  king  that  the  plans  ar¬ 
ranged  to  suppress  any  revolutionary  movement  were 
such  that  no  fear  could  be  entertained  of  the  result. 

About  ten  o’clock  on  "Wednesday  evening,  occurred 
the  decisive  incident  that  determined  the  fate  of  Louis 
Philippe’s  dynasty.  All  the  streets  were  brilliantly 
illuminated,  and  every  where  immense  numbers  of 


SLAUGHTER  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 


263 


promenaders,  men,  women  and  children,  were  out  en¬ 
joying  the  scene,  and  rejoicing  that  the  terrible  strug¬ 
gle  of  the  day  had  ceased.  Processions  of  workmen 
and  students  paraded  the  streets,  celebrating  the 
downfall  of  Guizot.  The  house  of  the  deposed  minister 
was  protected  by  a  large  force  of  the  military.  As 
one  of  the  bodies  of  workmen  was  marching  through 
the  street  near  his  house,  they  were  suddenly  fired 
upon  by  the  troops.  The  order  to  fire  was  the  result 
of  a  mistake.  The  scene  which  followed  was  awful. 
Thousands  of  men,  women,  children,  shrieking,  bawl¬ 
ing,  raving,  were  seen  flying  in  all  directions,  while 
sixty-two  men,  women  and  lads,  Belonging  to  every 
class  of  society,  lay  weltering  in  their  blood  upon  the 
pavement.  Next  minute  an  awful  roar,  the  first  breath 
of  the  popular  indignation,  was  heard,  and  then  away 
flew  the  students,  artisans,  the  shopkeepers,  all,  to 
carry  the  news  to  the  most  distant  parts  of  the  city, 
and  to  rouse  the  population  to  arms  against  a  govern¬ 
ment,  whose  satellites  murdered  the  people  in  this 
atrocious  manner.  A  squadron  of  horsemen  now 
charged,  sword  in  hand,  over  dead  and  wounded,  amid 
useless  cries  of  “Mind  the  fallen,”  and  drove  the  peo¬ 
ple  before  them.  The  sight  was  appalling.  Husbands 
were  seen  dragging  their  fainting  wives  from  the  scene 
of  massacre ;  fathers  snatching  up  their  children,  with 
pale  faces  and  clenched  teeth,  hurried  away  to  put  their 
young  ones  in  safety,  and  then  to  come  out  in  arms 
against  the  monarchy.  "Women  clung  to  railings, 
trees,  or  to  the  'wall,  or  fell  fainting  on  the  stones. 

In  two  hours  the  terrible  news  was  known  all  over 
Paris.  During  the  night  3000  persons  arrived  by  a 


264 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


monster  train  from  Rouen,  with  arms  and  artillery. 
All  thoughts  of  slumber  were  abandoned.  Groups 
stood  at  the  corners  of  the  streets.  Everywhere  barri¬ 
cades  arose  as  if  by  magic.  All  night  the  population 
labored,  and  the  number  of  persons  so  engaged  may 
be  conceived,  'when  it  is  stated,  that  upward  of  two 
thousand  barricades  of  the  most  formidable  character 
were  erected.  Not  less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  men  —  some  of  them  National  Guards  — 
passed  that  night  in  fortifying  themselves  behind  al¬ 
most  impregnable  ramparts,  which  would  have  cost 
many  thousand  lives  to  have  carried,  had  the  troops 
remained  faithful  to  the  government. 

The  king  at  last  became  alarmed.  Late  at  night  he 
became  convinced  that  a  better  guarantee  of  reform 
was  required  than  a  cabinet  formed  by  a  personal 
friend  of  the  king,  and  in  which  the  views  of  the  court 
party  would  necessarily  retain  the  ascendancy.  Thiers 
and  Odilon  Barrot,  the  leaders  of  the  two  sections  of 
the  opposition,  were  sent  for  to  form  a  ministry.  Six 
hours  earlier  and  the  announcement  of  this  fact  would 
probably  have  satisfied  the  people  and  prevented  fur¬ 
ther  tumult.  Now  it  came  too  late.  The  demand  for 
reform  had  been  converted  by  exasperation  into  a 
settled  purpose  of  revolution,  and  the  same  spirit  was 
likely  to  extend  to  the  provinces.  During  the  night 
the  departure  of  the  mails  had  been  prevented,  and 
the  railways  around  Paris  had  been  damaged  or  de¬ 
stroyed,  at  every  point  at  which  troops  might  be 
expected  to  arrive. 

At  six  on  the  morning  of  Thursday,  the  24th,  Paris 
was  covered  with  barricades,  on  which  floated  the 


BACKING  OF  THE  PALAIS  ROYAL. 


265 


tri  color,  (the  flag  adopted  by  the  revolutionary  party 
of  Europe.)  Behind  the  barricades  stood  resolute  men, 
armed  with  muskets,  swords,  pistols  and  pikes.  The 
tocsin  rung  the  signal  for  battle,  and  the  fight  began 
between  the  people  and  the  soldiers  of  the  line.  But 
the  troops  were  ill-disposed  to  shed  the  blood  of  their 
brethren.  At  ten,  one  of  the  regiments  joined  the  peo¬ 
ple.  Just  at  this  time  a  proclamation  signed  by  Thiers 
and  Barrot  was  distributed  through  the  street.  It  an¬ 
nounced  that  orders  were  given  the  troops  to  suspend 
the  firing ;  that  Thiers  and  Barrot  were  empowered  by 
the  king  to  form  a  ministry  ;  that  the  Chambers  would 
be  dissolved;  and  that  General  Lamoriciere  was  named 
Commander-in-chief  of  the  National  Guard.  The  com¬ 
mand  had  previously  been  given  to  Marshal  Bugeaud, 
who,  beside  being  unpopular  with  the  people,  was  in 
favor  of  energetic  measures  against  the  insurrection. 
The  proclamation  announcing  the  advent  of  a  new 
ministry  was  torn  in  pieces.  The  tide  of  insurrection 
was  flowing  rapidly,  irresistibly,  toward  the  Tuileries, 
the  king’s  residence.  About  noon,  the  people,  headed 
by  numerous  detachments  of  the  National  Guard,  at¬ 
tacked  the  Palais  Royal,  took  it  and  sacked  the  royal 
apartments.  The  noise  penetrated  the  apartments  of 
the  Tuileries.  Louis  Philippe  saw  that  it  was  useless 
1  >nger  to  brave  the  storm  that  gathered  over  his  head. 
1  ut  one  hope  was  left.  He  might  abdicate  in  favor  of 
1  is  grandson,  the  Count  of  Paris,  and  the  heir  to  the 
throne.  The  queen  only,  of  all  present,  resisted  this 
proposition.  She  clung  to  the  king  and  entreated  him 
to  be  firm,  to  battle  against  the  people.  He  gently 
pu/died  her  aside  and  wrote — “I  lay  down  the  Crown 

12 


266  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

winch  the  wbll  of  the  nation  bestowed  on  me  in  July, 
1830.  I  abdicate  in  favor  of  my  beloved  grandson,  the 
Count  of  Paris.”  Immediately  the  king  and  royal  fam¬ 
ily  left  the  palace,  and  sought  safety  in  flight.  As  they 
departed,  the  people  arrived.  The  former  occupants  left 
so  hastily  that  they  had  not  even  breakfasted.  The 
new  comers  made  merry  with  the  adventure,  and  some 
sat  down  to  eat  the  breakfast  prepared  for  the  fugitive 
kino-.  A  lad  ascended  the  throne,  turned  round  to  the 
people,  and  putting  his  hand  on  bis  heart,  said,  in 
royal  phrase — “Messieurs,  it  is  always  with  the  great¬ 
est  pleasure  that  I  see  myself  surrounded  by  my  peo¬ 
ple!”  The  throne  was  then  carried  out  into  the  streets 
and  burned. 

The  Chamber  of  Deputies  met  in  the  afternoon. 
The  Duchess  of  Orleans,  accompanied  by  the  Duke  of 
Nemours,  entered,  leading  her  two  sons.  The  abdica¬ 
tion  of  Louis  Philippe,  the  transfer  of  royal  power  to 
the  young  Count  of  Paris,  and  the  appointment  of  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans  to  the  regency,  were  announced. 
It  was  moved  that  an  entry  should  be  made  in  the 
journals,  of  the  acclamation  which  had  accompanied 
to  the  Chamber,  and  greeted  on  their  arrival,  the  Count 
of  Paris  as  King  of  France,  and  the  Duchess  of  Or¬ 
leans  as  regent,  under  the  protection  of  the  national 
wishes.  M.  Sauzet,  the  president,  said,  that  the  Cham¬ 
ber,  by  its  unanimous  acclamations, - Here  he  was 

interrupted  on  the  right  and  on  the  left,  by  the  specta¬ 
tors.  All  was  confusion.  Lamartine  moved  that  the 
sitting  be  suspended,  out  of  respect  to  the  national 
representatives,  and  to  the  presence  of  the  Duchess  of 
Orleans.  The  president  announced  the  suspension  of 


A  RErCBLIC  DEMANDED. 


267 


the  sitting,  until  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  and  the  new 
king  retired.  After  some  hesitation,  the  duchess  and 
her  children,  with  those  around  her,  -withdrew  from 
the  room.  Odilon  Barrot  exclaimed  —  “Our  duty  is 
clear :  the  crown  of  J uly  rests  on  the  head  of  a  child 
and  of  a  woman  :  the  regency  of  the  Duchess  of  Or¬ 
leans —  a  ministry  selected  from  among  the  men  of  the 
most  tried  opinions,  will  give  the  best  security  for  lib¬ 
erty  :  he  could  not  undertake  the  responsibility  of  any 
thing  else.”  A  crowd  of  armed  men,  National  Guards, 
students,  and  workmen,  broke  into  the  Chamber,  many 
of  them  carrying  banners.  They  loudly  denounced  a 
restoration  of  the  monarchy.  They  exclaimed  that  the 
Count  of  Paris  should  not  be  proclaimed  king.  The 
cry  of  many  was  for  a  republic.  Voices  were  shout¬ 
ing,  “No  more  Bourbons!”  “Down  with  the  trait¬ 
ors!”  “A  provisional  government!”  Many  of  the 
deputies  retired.  Ledru  Robin  obtained  a  hearing. 
He  declared  that  a  regency  was  impossible.  lie  said 
that  to  proclaim  the  Count  of  Paris  would  be  a  new 
usurpation.  He  called  for  a  provisional  government, 
not  named  by  the  Chamber,  but  by  the  people  ;  and  an 
immediate  appeal  to  a  convention,  to  settle  the  rights 
of  the  people.  Lamartine  also  spoke.  He  advocated 
a  provisional  government  which  should  prejudge 
nothing  as  to  the  ultimate  form  of  government  which 
it  should  please  the  nation  to  adopt.  Here  a  body  of 
oeople  burst  into  the  hall.  Still,  amid  the  confusion,  a 
ist  of  names  for  the  formation  of  a  provisional  govern- 
nent  was  adopted.  From  the  office  of  the  Reforvie 
lewspaper,  the  organ  of  the  ultra  republicans,  another 
ist  was  sent  out.  By  an  arrangement,  the  two  rival 


263 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


bodies  met  at  the  Il6tel  de  Ville  —  the  government 
office  —  and  agreed  upon  a  compromise,  at  first  by 
choosing  four  of  the  newspaper  set  to  be  secretaries  to 
the  other  body,  but  a  few  days  afterward  by  admitting 
these  four  to  full  membership,  the  decrees  being  signed 
by  the  whole  number  without  distinction. 

Ho  sooner  had  the  members  of  the  provisional  gov¬ 
ernment  been  chosen,  than  began  one  of  the  most  re¬ 
markable  councils  ever  held  by  any  government.  For 
sixty  hours  the  provisional  executive  of  the  nation  sat 
without  abandoning  their  post,  now  writing  decrees, 
debating  them,  and  sending  them  forth  to  the  nation 
by  the  voice  of  the  printing  machine  ;  now  rushing  out 
to  do  battle  for  their  very  existence,  as  new  columns 
upon  columns  of  people  thronged  to  demand  nen 
concessions.  Several  times  the  government  was  on 
the  eve  of  dissolution.  One  party  demanded  the  red 
flag.  The  majority  knew  that  this  was  to  sanctify  the 
triumph  of  anarchy.  They  resisted.  The  people 
threatened  to  rush  in  and  destroy  the  provisional  gov¬ 
ernment.  Lamartine  hastened  out,  and  stood  on  the 
stairs  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  ;  but  the  excited  people 
brandishing  their  arms,  refused  to  hear  him.  He  per¬ 
sisted,  and  his  voice  at  length  drowned  the  tumult. 
He  was  heard,  and  his  effective  eloquence  brought  the 
people  at  once  back  to  their  senses.  They  then  re¬ 
turned  to  their  duties,  and  before  night,  the  following 
proclamation  was  posted  up  in  Paris,  while  rough 
proof  copies  were  flying  to  every  part  of  the  country 
through  the  post.  Though  they  have  appeared  largely 
in  the  press,  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  giving  here  these 
first  acts  of  the  government  of  the  Revolution . 


PROCLAMATION  TO  TIIE  PEOPLE. 


269 


PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  PROVISIONAL  GOVERNMENT. 
“to  THE  FRENCH  people. 

“A  retrograde  and  oligarchical  government  has  been 
overthrown  by  the  heroism  of  the  people  of  Paris. 
This  government  has  tied,  leaving  behind  it  a  track  of 
blood  which  forbids  its  ever  retracing  its  steps.  The 
blood  of  the  people  has  been  shed,  as  it  was  in  July ; 
but  this  time  that  generous  blood  shall  not  be  shed  in 
vain.  It  has  won  a  national  and  popular  government 
in  accord  with  the  rights,  the  progress,  and  the  will  of 
this  great  and  noble  people.  A  provisional  govern¬ 
ment,  arising  from  the  urgent  acclamations  of  the 
voices  of  the  {people  and  the  deputies  from  the  depart¬ 
ments  in  the  sitting  of  February  21,  is  momentarily 
invested  with  the  charge  of  organizing  and  securing 
the  national  victory. 

“It  is  composed  of  Messrs.  Dupont  (de  l’Eure,)  La¬ 
martine,  Cremieux,  Arago  (of  the  Institute,)  Ledru- 
Rollin,  Gamier  Pages,  and  Marie. 

“The  government  has  for  its  secretaries  Messrs. 
Armand-Marrast,  Ferdinand  Flocon,  Louis  Blanc,  and 
Albert. 

“  The  citizens  have  not  hesitated  an  instant  to  ac¬ 
cept  the  patriotic  mission  which  was  imposed  by  the 
urgency  of  the  case. 

“  When  blood  has  flowed,  when  the  capital  of 
Frawce  is  in  flames,  the  mission  of  the  provisional 
government  is  public  safety.  All  France  will  listen  to 
it,  and  lend  it  a  patriotic  concurrence.  Under  the 
popular  government  which  the  provisional  government 
proclaims,  every  citizen  is  a  magistrate. 

“Frenchmen!  give  to  the  world  the  example  which 
Paris  has  given  to  France!  Prepare  yourselves,  by 
order  and  by  confidence  in  one  another,  for  those 
strong  institutions  which  you  are  called  upon  to  form! 

“The  provisional  government  desires  a  republic, 
but  subject  to  the  ratification  of  the  French  people, 
who  shall  be  immediately  consulted. 

“Unity  of  the  nation  !  formed  henceforth  of  the 
classes  of  which  the  nation  is  composed ;  the  govern¬ 
ment  of  the  nation  by  itself;  ‘liberty,  equality,  and 


270 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IllS  TIKES. 


fraternity  ’  for  principles  ;  ‘  the  people’  for  a  motto,  and 
the  password  of  ‘order!’  Such  is  the  democratic 
government  which  France  owes  to  herself,  and  which 
shall  have  all  our  efforts  for  its  establishment.” 

A  position  of  greater  responsibility,  or  one  encom¬ 
passed  with  more  startling  difficulties,  than  that  to 
which  the  members  of  the  provisional  government  had 
been  chosen,  can  scarcely  be  conceived.  France  was 
in  a  state  of  anarchy.  It  was  without  rulers  and  with¬ 
out  law.  The  Parisian  people,  the  most  excitable  in 
the  world,  and  headed  by  violent,  daring  and  reckless 
leaders,  were  driven  to  the  wildest  excesses.  To  pre¬ 
vent  civil  war  and  all  the  atrocities  and  sufferings  that 
were  attendant  upon  the  Revolution  of  1798  —  to  calm 
the  furious  agitation  —  to  restore  and  preserve  the 
public  tranquillity  —  and  to  call  a  convention,  through 
which  the  will  of  the  people  could  be  ascertained,  and 
such  institutions  of  state  organized  as  the  nation  might 
desire ;  this  was  the  task  which  the  provisional  gov¬ 
ernment  had  assumed,  and  well  and  gloriously,  amid 
the  thousand  obstacles  and  difficulties  that  beset  them, 
did  they  accomplish  it. 

But  to  Lamartine,  the  recognized  leader  and  the 
most  active  member  of  the  provisional  government,  is 
chiefly  attributable  the  merit  of  having  conducted 
France  through  so  stupendous  a  crisis,  with  so  little  of 
outrage  and  so  much  of  noble  forbearance.  During 
the  paroxysm  of  this  great  and  wonderful  change,  La¬ 
martine  exceeded  all  the  expectations  formed  of  him 
by  his  warmest  friends,  and  wTou  the  admiration  and 
the  enconiums  of  the  world.  His  name  will  stand 
on  the  page  of  history,  among  the  greatest  and  noblest 


LAMAKTINK. 


271 


statesmen  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Wise,  firm,  be¬ 
nevolent  and  disinterested,  he  resisted  the  rash  claims 
of  the  people,  while  he  advocated  those  that  were  just. 

Alphonse  de  Lamartine  was  born  at  Macon,  Octo¬ 
ber  21,  1790.  His  family  name  was  De  Prat,  but  some 
years  ago  he  assumed  that  of  his  maternal  uncle.  His 
father  was  major  of  a  regiment  of  cavalry  under  Louis 
XYI.,  and  was  imprisoned  at  the  time  of  the  overthrow 
of  his  royal  master.  The  boy  who,  more  than  fifty 
years  afterward,  was  to  play  so  striking  a  part  in  a 
great  revolution,  passed  many  months  of  his'  infancy 
with  his  father  while  confined  in  prison.  After  the 
reign  of  terror,  the  royalist  major  was  released,  and 
passed  the  remainder  of  his  days  with  his  family  at 
Milly,  an  old  chateau  in  Burgundy.  From  his  child¬ 
hood  young  Alphonse  wTas  remarkable  for  his  preco¬ 
cious  intellect.  Among  the  few  habitual  visitors  at 
the  chateau,  was  the  good  priest  of  the  neighboring 
village,  who,  from  his  amiable  temper  and  endearing 
manners,  was  the  delight  of  all  who  came  within  the 
sphere  of  his  influence,  and  particularly  of  the  young 
folks  at  the  chateau,  who  honored  and  revered  him  as 
a  father,  without  ceasing  to  love  and  cherish  him  as  a 
playmate  and  companion.  On  one  occasion  he  had 
called  at  the  chateau  in  passing  homeward  from  one 
of  his  visitations  of  duty  and  benevolence,  and  nothing 
could  satisfy  his  young  friends,  who  crowded  round 
him  with  welcomes  and  caresses,  but  his  remaining  to 
dine  and  spend  the  rest  of  the  day  with  them.  The 
lady  of  the  chateau  joined  her  solicitations  to  those  of 
her  children,  and  the  priest’s  inclinations  strongly  sec- 
>nded  their  wishes ;  but  there  was  a  serious  obstacle 


272 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


in  the  way.  “It  is  Saturday,  (said  he,)  and  I’ve  not 
prepared  a  line  of  my  to-morrow’s  sermon.  And  to 
compose  a  good  sermon,  (added  he,  smiling,)  is  no 
joke.  It  will  take  me  all  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  it 
may  be,  an  hour  or  two  of  the  night.”  “  Oh,  if  that ’s 
all,  (cried  Alphonse,  who  was  then  but  twelve  years  of 
age,  and  wdio  had  receded  from  the  crowd  of  little 
suitors  around  the  priest,  and  was  contemplating  from 
a  window  the  scene  without,)  I'll  write  your  sermon  for 
you,  sir.  I  often  write  sermons,  and  preach  them 
too  —  in  my  head !  What  shall  the  text  be?  ”  All  pres¬ 
ent,  the  priest  included,  greeted  this  half-serious,  half- 
jocular  sally  with  good-humored  smiles  or  laughter, 
and  the  good  man  himself  appeared  to  yield  to  the 
argument  for  his  stay  among  them.  Accordingly  he 
gave  a  text  at  random  to  the  young  aspirant  for 
preaching  honors,  and  determined  to  borrow  a  few 
hours  from  his  pillow  for  the  composition  of  his  to-mor¬ 
row’s  discourse.  After  dinner,  Alphonse  disappeared 
from  the  family  party  ;  but  as  this  was  the  frequent 
result  of  his  contemplative  habits,  nobody  took  notice 
of  his  absence  till  the  priest  was  preparing  for  his  early 
departure  in  the  evening  —  when  Alphonse  made  his 
appearance  with  a  roll  of  paper  in  his  hand.  “Here 
is  your  sermon,  sir,”  exclaimed  he,  "with  a  smile  of  ex¬ 
ultation  -on  his  beautiful  and  expressive  countenance. 
The  priest,  innocently  humoring  the  joke,  took  the 
scroll  and  opened  it.  “Well,  (said  he,)  let  us  see 
what  this  sermon  of  our  young  friend  is  made  of. 
Suppose  we  try  a  little  of  it  upon  the  present  audi¬ 
ence;”  and  he  proceeded  to  open  and  read  it  aloud. 
He  had  not  read  many  lines,  however,  before  his  aspect 


LAMARTIXE  AS  A  LEGISLATOR. 


273 


and  manner  became  entirely  changed.  In  a  word,  the 
child  of  twelve  years  of  age  had  produced  a  compo¬ 
sition  of  deep  thought,  fervid  eloquence,  and  high 
poetry,  and  the  priest  pronounced  it  at  church  the 
next  day  to  a  delighted  and  admiring  audience. 

The  early  life  of  Lamartine  was  one  of  meditation 
and  of  study,  rather  than  of  action.  After  his  depar¬ 
ture  from  college,  he  passed  some  time  at  Lyons,  made 
a  brief  excursion  into  Italy,  and  visited  Paris  during 
the  last  days  of  the  empire.  lie  was  already  dream¬ 
ing  of  literary,  especially  of  dramatic,  renown,  and 
was  a  favorite  with  Talma,  the  greatest  of  French  tra¬ 
gedians,  who  wras  pleased  to  hear  him  recite,  with  his 
clear  and  melancholy  voice,  the  unpublished  fragment 
of  a  tragedy  on  Saul.  In  1820,  the  publication  of  a 
volume  of  “Poetic  Meditations,”  placed  him  in  the 
first  rank  of  French  poets.  From  that  period  he  pub¬ 
lished  many  works,  all  of  which  were  highly  popular. 
In  1824  he  entered  diplomatic  life  as  secretary  of  the 
legation  at  Florence.  Afterward  he  went  to  London 
in  the  same  capacity,  but  was  subsequently  returned 
to  Tuscany  as  charge  d’affaires.  At  London  he  mar¬ 
ried  a  rich  English  heiress,  by  whom  he  had  one 
daughter.  After  the  Revolution  of  1830,  he  aspired 
to  a  seat  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  but  being  re¬ 
jected  by  the  constituency  before  whom  he  presented 
himself,  he  undertook  an  oriental  journey  with  his  wife 
and  child.  While  in  Asia,  he  received  the  announce¬ 
ment  of  his  election  as  a  deputy  from  Dunkirk,  and  in 
1834,  hastened  home  to  take  his  seat  in  the  Chamber. 
He  did  not  attach  himself  particularly  to  any  party, 
but  appeared  always  as  a  friend  of  justice,  of  humanity, 
12* 


274 


I.OUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


of  tolerance,  of  morality,  and  of  the  poor.  lie  rap¬ 
idly  rose  to  the  position  of  one  of  the  first  orators  of 
France.  Ilis  rare  courage  and  independence  ;  his  ar¬ 
dent  advocacy  of  all  measures  calculated  to  elevate  the 
people  and  ameliorate  their  condition  ;  and  his  masterly 
eloquence,  all  pointed  him  out  as  the  most  suitable 
head  of  the  revolutionary  government,  after  the  over¬ 
throw  of  Louis  Philippe.  His  success  at  calming  the 
violent,  and  subduing  the  obstinate,  —  his  introduction 
of  great,  comprehensive  and  beneficent  measures,  and 
his  guidance  of  the  state  safely  through  the  elections 
for  a  constitutional  convention,  when  the  national  peace 
was  endangered  by  a  turbulent  host  of  ignorant  dema¬ 
gogues,  are  proofs  that  the  French  people  were  fortu¬ 
nate  in  making  him  a  member  of  the  provisional 
government. 

The  other  members  of  the  provisional  government, 
although  they  possessed  the  respect  and  confidence  of 
the  citizens  of  Paris  and  of  the  French  people,  were 
scarcely  known  out  of  France.  Arago,  it  is  true,  had 
obtained  celebrity  abroad,  but  as  an  astronomer  and 
not  as  a  politician.  He  had,  however,  been  a  staunch 
advocate  of  republican  views  for  many  years.  The 
reputation  of  the  others  was  almost  exclusively  local. 
Dupont  de  l’Eure,  an  old  man  of  eighty,  and  a  staunch 
republican — Cremieux,  an  able  lawyer  of  the  Jewish 
persuasion  —  Ledru-Rollin,  an  ultra  democrat  of  the 
revolutionary  school,  earnest  and  zealous  —  Marie,  a 
violent  agrarian,  having  an  extreme  prejudice  against 
the  wealthy  classes  —  Gamier  Pages,  a  distinguished 
financier — Marrast,  editor  of  the  “National,”  a  man 
talented  and  energetic,  with  broad  and  enlightened 


LOUIS  PHILIPPE  IN  EXILE. 


275 


sympathies  —  and  Louis  Blanc,  an  enthusiast  and  a 
socialist,  —  these  were  the  most  conspicuous  members 
of  the  provisional  government. 

Louis  Philippe  and  all  the  various  members  of  his 
numerous  household  escaped  safely  to  England,  and 
took  up  their  residence  at  Claremont.  The  provisional 
government,  instead  of  making  any  arrests,  seemed  to 
prefer  that  all  might  leave  France  without  molestation. 

In  exile,  the  peculiar  excellencies  and  graces  of 
Louis  Philippe’s  character  were  exhibited  in  a  favor¬ 
able  light.  However  grave  the  errors  of  his  adminis¬ 
tration,  however  reprehensible  his  conduct  as  a  king, 
in  his  family  and  in  his  social  intercourse  he  was  un¬ 
usually  affectionate  and  winning.  Those  who  saw  him 
around  his  domestic  hearth  or  met  him  in  society, 
could  not  fail  to  admire  him.  On  his  arrival  in  Eng¬ 
land,  he  assumed  the  title  of  Count  of  Neuilly,  and 
though  in  his  own  circle,  all  the  respect,  and  in  some 
degree  the  etiquette  of  royalty,  were  maintained,  the 
exiled  king  fell  easily,  and  indeed  it  may  be  said, 
naturally,  into  the  character  and  manners  of  a  private 
gentleman.  The  vicissitudes  of  his  earlier  days,  had 
confirmed  the  simplicity  of  his  personal  tastes  ;  and 
certainly  no  man  that  ever  existed  could  have  stepped 
from  a  throne  into  the  mediocrity  of  private  life  with 
less  sacrifice  of  his  ordinary  habits,  than  Louis  Phil¬ 
ippe.  He  rose  late,  and  breakfasted  with  his  whole 
family  about  ten  or  eleven.  He  then  read  his  letters 
or  the  newspapers  till  about  one,  -when  he  received 
visitors,  of  whom,  both  French  and  English,  there  was 
a  pretty  constant  succession,  and  with  whom  he  con¬ 
versed  upon  all  subjects,  with  a  fluency  and  propriety 


276 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  I  ITS  TIMES. 


of  diction,  a  copiousness  of  information,  and,  .above 
all,  with  an  unreserve  and  a  frankness  that  surprised 
those  who  were  not  already  intimate  with  him.  His 
conversation  was  as  diversified  as  his  visitors,  and, 
amusing  and  often  instructive  to  all,  it  was  appropriate 
to  each.  Ilis  owu  life  was  a  fruitful  topic,  on  which 
he  was  always  ready  to  speak  with  frankness,  and  with 
a  singular  indulgence  to  the  curiosity  or  even  the  criti¬ 
cism  of  his  auditors.  He  had  an  excellent  memory  for 
family  history,  as  well  as  for  the  events  of  his  own  long 
and  varied  times.  Of  his  reign,  and  in  regard  to  his 
overthrow,  he  spoke  with  freedom  and  moderation. 
What  seemed  to  touch  him  most  nearly  was  the  indif¬ 
ference  with  which  his  abdication  and  departure  from 
France  were  regarded.  He  once  said  to  a  friend : 
“When  I  was  on  the  throne  they  would  say  to  me — 
‘Sire  !  you  are  the  key-stone  of  the  arch  on  which  rests 
the  peace  of ’Europe  and  the  world.’  I  smiled  inter¬ 
nally  at  the  exaggeration,  and  thought  my  shoulders 
hardly  broad  enough  ‘  to  support  the  peace  of  the 
world.’  These,  I  said  to  myself,  tire  either  flatterers 
or  over-partial  friends  who  exaggerate  my  influence. 
Well ;  a  day  came  that  seemed  in  some  sort  to  justify 
that  opinion.  I  fell;  and  at  that  moment  an  explosion 
of  revolutionary  wars  burst  forth  throughout  Europe  — 
at  Vienna,  Berlin,  Rome,  Munich — in  Sicily,  Lom¬ 
bardy,  and  Hungary  ;  yet  not  a  voice  —  not  one — was 
heard  to  ask  whether  ‘this  man,  whom  we  have  just 
condemned  to  die  in  exile,  had  not,  after  all,  some  lit  tle 
share  in  that  general  tranquillity  and  prosperity  of 
nations  which  were  so  generally  and  so  deplorably 
interrupted  by  his  fall.’  Was  there  due  to  him  i)9 


i,ouis  philippe’s  domestic  life. 


277 


parting  word  of  condolence  —  no  regret — not  even  a 
remembrance — nothing ?  ” 

All  bis  children  and  grandchildren,  even  the  very 
youngest,  dined  at  the  same  time  and  table  with  Louis 
Philippe.  lie  had  something  particularly  fatherly  in 
his  character,  and  was  never  so  happy  as  when  he  had 
his  children  about  him.  It  was  something  new  to  a 
visitor’s  eye  to  see  all  these  children,  two  or  three  of 
them  almost  infants,  sitting  at  table  intermixed  with 
the  elder  members  of  the  royal  family,  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen  in  waiting,  and  a  few  English  and  many 
French  occasional  guests.  Louis  Philippe  always 
carved,  (as  he  used  to  do  at  the  Tuileries,)  and  seemed 
to  take  a  kind  of  good-humored  pride  in  the  dexterity 
and  attention  with  which  he  helped  every  body  all 
round  the  table.  lie  himself  was  moderate,  though 
not  abstemious,  both  in  eating  and  drinking  ;  and  im¬ 
mediately  at  the  end  of  the  dessert,  all  retired  from 
table  at  a  movement  by  the  queen,  and  followed  their 
majesties  into  the  saloon.  This  was  the  joyous  hour 
for  the  children.  One  of  the  elder  princes  would  amuse 
them  with  some  new  toy  —  a  magic  lantern,  a  lottery, 
or  some  general  game  —  or  they  would  riot  about  the 
room,  and  escalade  and  storm  the  king’s  chair  as  if  it 
were  a  breach  in  a  fortress.  This  seemed  to  delight 
the  king.  The  queen,  the  princesses  and  the  ladies, 
worked  at  a  round  table  ;  sometimes  her  majesty  had 
a  table  of  whist.  The  king  generally  sat  in  another 
part  of  the  room,  and  either  read  the  newspapers  or 
conversed  —  especially  with  any  visitors.  If,  amidst 
the  vast  variety  of  his  conversation,  a  doubt  should 
happen  to  occur  on  any  topic,  he  would  appeal  to  the 


27S 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  ANT)  TITS  TIMES. 


excellent  memory  and  judgment  of  the  queen,  on  which 
he  seemed  to  place  the  most  entire  reliance,  or  to  such 
one  of  the  princes  as  he  thought  likely  to  be  best  ac¬ 
quainted  with  the  topic  in  hand.  •  lie  seemed  to  take 
a  pleasure  in  bringing  forward  the  special  accomplish¬ 
ments  of  each,  and  they  in  general  answered  his  ap¬ 
peals  with  an  intelligence  and  an  accuracy  that  justified 
his  paternal  pride,  which  was  evidently  one  of  his 
strongest  feelings.  It  was  impossible  to  be  half  an 
hour  in  his  company  without  seeing  some  indication 
of  his  remarkable  respect  for  the  queen,  and  affection 
for  his  children. 

In  spite  of  the  heavy  thoughts  that  must  have 
weighed  upon  his  mind,  his  conversation  had  a  strong 
tendency  to  cheerfulness  and  even  gayety  ;  and  he  en¬ 
livened  even  graver  topics  by  a  ready  abundance  of 
pleasant  illustrations  and  anecdotes  of  all  the  remark¬ 
able  men  he  had  seen  or  known  —  and  he  had  seen 
and  known  every  man  who  had  made  any  figure  in  the 
world  for  the  last  seventy  years  —  except  Bonaparte — • 
about  whom,  however,  he  had  a  considerable  store  of 
anecdotes. 

Although  seventy-five  years  of  age,  Louis  Philippe 
retained  his  mental  and  bodily  vigor  until  near  the 
period  of  his  death.  In  May,  1850,  his  health  began 
to  decline,  and  toward  the  last  of  August,  his  physi¬ 
cian  deemed  it  proper  to  assure  him  that  his  end  was 
rapidly  approaching.  This  intelligence  he  communi¬ 
cated  to  him  in  presence  of  the  queen.  The  king 
received  the  announcement  with  —  for  a  moment — • 
something  of  incredulous  surprise  and  regret,  but 
quickly  recovered  his  composure,  and  accepted  his 


louis  puilippe’s  deatii-bed. 


279 


destiny  with  the  calmness  and  resolution  which  had 
characterized  his  whole  life.  lie  remained  alone  with 
the  queen  for  some  time  ;  no  one  can  tell  what  passed 
between  that  royal  couple,  than  wdiich  there  has  sel¬ 
dom  existed  one  in  any  rank  of  life  so  long,  so  unin¬ 
terruptedly,  and  so  entirely  happy  in  each  other, — 
bound  together  by  so  many  domestic  ties  —  by  the 
participation  of  such  exalted  fortunes,  and  by  the 
dearer  trials  of  such  reverses  and  vicissitudes.  When 
at  last  one  of  the  king’s  confidential  attendants  was 
permitted  to  enter  the  room,  he  saw  the  aged  couple  — 
the  king  sitting  in  his  usual  chair,  and  the  queen 
standing  opposite  to  him  —  motionless  and  tearless, 
with  eyes  fixed  on  each  other — like  statues.  Not  a 
word  was  spoken  till  the  king,  with  a  firm  yet  inter¬ 
rupted  voice,  addressed  to  her  some  words  of  love  and 
consolation.  These  he  repeated  with  an  increasing 
tenderness  of  voice  two  or  three  times. 

He  then  recollected  that  about  four  months  before, 
he  had  been  writing  some  notes — relative  to  his  return 
to  France  in  1814:  —  and  said  that  he  had  stopped  in 
the  middle  of  an  anecdote  which  he  wished  to  have 
finished.  He  asked  for  the  bunch  of  keys  he  always 
wore,  and  told  General  Dumas,  who  was  then  in  attend¬ 
ance,  to  go  to  a  certain  cabinet  where  he  wrnuld  find 
the  paper.  The  general  seemed  not  to  know  which 
key  to  use,  upon  which  the  king  said  with  a  smile,  “I 
could  never  teach  you  to  distinguish  my  keys,”  and, 
taking  the  bunch  with  a  trembling  hand  that  did  not 
answer  to  the  energy  of  the  mind,  he  took  off  the  key, 
and  gave  the  general  exact  directions  as  to  the  shape 
and  place  of  the  paper.  When  the  paper  was  brought, 


280 


LOU  18  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


the  king  said,  “My  hand  is  already  too  cold  to  write 
hut  I  will  dictate  to  you.”  The  general  sat  down  a 
the  bedside  and  began  to  write;  and  then  followec 
two  small  incidents  which  showed  the  perfect  —  the 
minute  —  possession  of  his  faculties  even  in  that  awfu 
moment.  Without  looking  at  the  paper,  or  askiru 
what  was  the  last  word  he  had  written,  four  months 
previous,  he  went  on  with  his  narrative  with  the  verj 
next  word  that  the  sense  required  ;  and  when  he  saw 
the  general  writing,  as  he  thought,  on  his  own  original 
paper,  he  said,  “You  are  not  writing  on  my  maim-' 
script,  I  hope;”  but  the  general  showed  him  that  it 
■was  a  loose  sheet  which  he  had  only  placed  on  the 
manuscript  to  enable  him  to  hold  it  more  steadily 
The  anecdote  itself  was  of  no  great  importance,  and 
was  one  which  he  had  often  told  ;  but  in  the  manu 
script  it  had  broken  off  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence, 
and  as  it  completed  a  chapter  of  his  Memoirs,  he  did 
not  choose  to  leave  it  imperfect. 

When  tliis  affair,  which  occupied  but  a  short  time, 
was  over,  he  announced  his  desire  to  receive  the  sacra¬ 
ments  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and  desired  that  all  his; 
children  and  grandchildren,  then  at  Claremont,  with 
the  whole  household,  should  be  assembled  to  witness 
these  last  acts  of  devotion  ;  and  in  their  presence  “he 
discharged,  (says  the  official  announcement  of  the 
event,)  all  the  duties  of  religion  with  the  most  per¬ 
fect  Christian  resignation,  a  stoical  firmness,  and  a 
simplicity  which  is  the  real  evidence  of  human  great¬ 
ness.”  The  queen  and  all  their  children  remained  for 
a  long  time,  kneeling,  weeping,  and  praying  around 
the  bed,  the  king  appearing  perfectly  sensible  and 


DEATH  OF  LOUIS  PHILIPPE. 


281 


tranquil,  and  recognizing  with  a  look  of  affection  every 
eye  that  was  occasionally  raised  to  him.  The  fever 
increased  in  the  night,  but  did  not  in  the  slightest 
degree  affect  his  mental  composure :  nay,  he  seemed  at 
one  moment  to  feel  so  much  better  as  to  give  a  gleam 
of  hope,  which  he  accepted  with  alacrity.  Even  after 
he  ceased  to  speak,  his  eye  distinguished  benignantly 
the  persons  around.  At  length  he  closed  his  eyes,  and 
after  breathing  faintly  for  some  time,  without  apparent 
pain,  he  expired.  This  event  occurred,  August  26, 
1850. 

Upon  the  overthrow  of  Louis  Philippe,  in  February, 
1848,  the  provisional  government  of  the  Republic  la¬ 
bored  energetically  to  mould  the  convulsed  elements 
of  France  into  their  new  form.  Large  demonstrations 
of  the  people,  in  behalf  of  various  measures,  were  fre¬ 
quently  made,  while  deputations  from  the  Irish,  Polish, 
and  Italian  revolutionists,  demanding  assistance  from 
the  republican  government,  considerably  embarrassed 
its  operations.  Yet  the  country  was  saved  from  serious 
difficulty  by  the  admirable  line  of  policy  adopted  by 
Lamartine  and  his  associates.  The  bitter  dissensions, 
among  all  classes,  on  the  subject  of  socialism,  created 
the  most  imminent  dangers  to  which  the  republic  was 
exposed.  The  Parisian  population  were  so  violently 
agitated  by  this  question,  that  on  several  occasions  the 
National  Guards  were  called  out  to  overawe  the  most 
turbulent. 

In  April,  elections  were  held  throughout  the  country, 
for  deputies  to  a  National  Assembly,  to  organize  a  con¬ 
stitution.  Early  in  May  this  body,  about  eight  hun¬ 
dred  in  number,  assembled  at  Paris.  The  members 


282 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  I1IS  TIMES. 


of  the  provisional  government  presented  themselves 
before  this  Assembly,  the  immediate  representatives  of 
the  people’s  will,  and  resigned  the  informal  authority 
they  had  exercised  over  France.  The  venerable  Du¬ 
pont  de  l’Eure,  who  was  chosen  to  perform  this  office, 
read  the  following  address  to  the  Assembly  : 

“  Citizens !  Representatives  of  the  people !  the  pro¬ 
visional  government  of  the  Republic  comes  to  incline 
itself  before  the  nation,  and  to  render  conspicuous 
homage  to  the  supreme  power  with  which  you  are  in¬ 
vested.  Elect  of  the  people!  welcome  to  the  great 
capital  where  your  presence  excites  a  sentiment  of 
happiness  and  hope  that  will  not  be  disappointed. 
Depositaries  of  the  national  sovereignty,  you  are  about 
to  found  new  institutions  upon  the  wide  basis  of  de¬ 
mocracy,  and  to  give  to  France  the  only  constitution 
that  is  suitable  to  her  —  that  of  Republic.  But  after 
having  proclaimed  the  grand  political  law,  which  is 
henceforth  to  definitively  constitute  the  country,  you 
will  endeavor  to  employ  the  efficacious  action  of  the 
government,  as  far  as  possible,  in  the  relations  that  the 
necessity  of  labor  establishes  among  all  citizens,  and 
which  ought  to  have  for  a  base  the  holy  laws  of  justice 
and  fraternity.  In  fine,  the  moment  has  arrived  for 
the  provisional  government  to  place  in  your  hands  the 
unlimited  power  with  which  it  was  invested  by  the 
Revolution.  For  us,  the  dictatorship  was  only  treated 
as  a  moral  power  in  the  midst  of  the  difficult  circum¬ 
stances  we  have  traversed.  Faithful  to  our  origin  and 
our  personal  convictions,  we  have  all  been  called  to 
proclaim  the  rising  Republic  of  February.  To-day  we 
inaugurate  the  labors  of  the  assembly,  with  the  cry 
that  always  rallies  us  together,  ‘  Vive  la  Republique!'1'1'1 

Immediately  after  the  organization  of  the  Rational 
Assembly,  Lamartine,  Arago,  Gamier  Pages,  Marie 
and  Ledru-Rollin  were  elected  an  executive  council  to 
administer  the  government.  Numerous  delegations 


ATTEMPTED  INSURRECTION. 


283 


from  clubs  and  associations  entertaining  extreme  opin¬ 
ions  on  political  questions,  tilled  the  galleries  of  the 
balls,  and  attempted,  sometimes  by  persuasion  and 
sometimes  by  threats,  to  control  the  action  of  the  As¬ 
sembly,  and  have  their  favorite  views  embodied  in  the 
aew  constitution.  This  was  generally  the  case  with 
;hose  who  held  radical  —  and  especially  with  those  who 
leld  extravagant  notions  in  regard  to  the  attitude 
vhich  the  government  justly  bears  toward  the  laborers. 
The  more  enlightened,  discreet  and  moderate  of  what 
nay  be  called  the  so'cialist  party,  took  no  part  in  these 
violent  attempts  to  overawe  the  Assembly.  But  the 
gnorant  workmen,  feeling  that  the  rights  of  the  masses 
iad  always  been  sacrificed  to  promote  the  interests  of 
avored  classes,  and  fearing  that  the  wrongs  under 
vhich  they  had  smarted  were  to  be  continued  by  the 
lew  government,  fully  determined  to  obtain  justice, 
hough  without  any  definite  idea  of  the  measares 
lecessary  to  accomplish  that  end ;  and  having  their 
pprehensions  excited  and  their  passions  aroused  by 
mbitious  and  unscrupulous  demagogues,  were  con 
tantly  creating  disturbances  and  embarrassing  the 
ction  of  the  government.  As  early  as  the  15th  of 
lay,  a  band  of  rioters  actually  invaded  the  Assembly — 
eclared  its  dissolution  —  and  proceeded  to  the  forma- 
on  of  a  new  provisional  government.  But  they  were 
irrounded  by  the  National  Guards,  defeated,  and  their 
laders  were  arrested.  Yet  the  dangerous  position  of 
le  government  was  by  no  means  ended  by  the  sup- 
ression  of  this  insurrectionary  movement.  The 
lousands  of  workmen  who  had  been  temporarily 
nployed  by  the  government,  seeing  that  they  would 


284 


I.0UI9  NAPOLICON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


soon  be  without  regular  means  of  support,  furnisher 
ready  material  for  the  designs  of  those  parties  win 
aspired  to  the  ascendancy.  For  more  than  a  montl 
the  city  remained  in  a  disturbed  and  anxious  state 
which  increased  from  day  to  day,  until  the  23d  oi 
June,  when  another  insurrection,  more  violent  anc 
more  wide-spread  than  its  predecessor,  broke  out 
Formidable  barricades  were  erected,  and  on  the  morn 
ing  of  the  24th,  no  less  than  40,000  insurgents  wen 
armed  for  the  struggle.  The  crisis  was  a  fearful  one 
The  national  executive  committee  wrere  powerless.  Its 
members  had  formed  the  provisional  government,  and 
as  such,  immediately  after  the  overthrow  of  Louis' 
Philippe,  had  restored  peace  to  Paris  and  to  the  nation 
by  offering  employment  and  liberal  ■wages  to  all  per 
sons,  in  national  workshops.  This  measure,  most  salu 
tary  at  the  time,  was  inevitably  productive  of  evil 
results,  for  as  soon  as  employment  was  withdrawn 
from  these  artisans,  they  assumed  a  hostile  attitude 
toward  the  government.  On  the  24th,  the  committee 
were  superseded  by  the  appointment  of  General  Cav- 
aignac  as  military  dictator.  General  Cavaignac  had 
won  great  distinction  in  the  war  against  Algeria,  and 
had  been  at  the  head  of  the  war  department  under  the 
provisional  government.  He  immediately  declared 
martial  law  in  Paris,  and  so  prompt  and  energetic 
were  his  measures,  that  on  the  26th  of  June,  after 
many  severe  conflicts  and  great  slaughter,  the  insur¬ 
rection  was  quelled,  and  peace  was  restored  to  the  city 
The  number  of  killed  was  variously  estimated  at  from 
5000  to  10,000.  The  name  of  Cavaignac  was  every¬ 
where  greeted  with  the  most  enthusiastic  acclamations. 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AGAIN  IN  PARIS. 


285 


But  no  sooner  were  the  insurgents  subdued,  than  Cav- 
aignac,  with  an  unselfish  patriotism  worthy  of  the 
highest  admiration  and  praise,  modestly  resigned  the 
absolute  authority  that  had  been  placed  in  his  hands. 
As  an  expression  of  their  gratitude  and  confidence,  the 
Assembly  determined  upon  confiding  to  him  the  exec¬ 
utive  power,  with  authority  to  appoint  his  own  min¬ 
istry.  His  cabinet  was  composed  of  men  generally 
acceptable  to  the  people,  and  while  he  remained  in 
power,  tranquillity  was  established  in  France. 

Louis  Napoleon  was  in  London  when  the  Revolution 
of  the  24th  of  February,  1848,  again  threw  the  social 
elements  of  France  into  confusion  and  doubt.  He  im¬ 
mediately  hastened  to  Paris,  (the  interdict  against  his 
family  being  now  nugatory,)  where  he  was  among  the 
first  who  saluted  and  recognized  the  provisional  gov¬ 
ernment.  The  provisional  government,  however,  being 
apprehensive  that  the  presence  of  the  Prince  in  Paris, 
might  be  made  a  pretext  for  disturbances  by  the  ene¬ 
mies  of  the  republic,  he  discreetly  retired  again  to 
London. 

On  the  24th  of  May,  the  Assembly,  by  an  almost 
unanimous  vote,  passed  a  decree  of  perpetual  banish¬ 
ment  against  Louis  Philippe  and  his  family.  The  law 
was  so  worded  as  to  vindicate  itself  against  the  com¬ 
plaints  of  those  who  were  affected  by  it.  It  ran  thus  : 
“The  territory  of  France  and  her  colonies,  interdicted 
forever  to  the  elder  branch  of  the  Bourbons,  by  the 
law  of  the  10th  of  April,  1832,  is  equally  interdicted 
to  Louis  Philippe  and  his  family.”  There  was  a  terri¬ 
ble  emphasis  in  the  almost  entire  unanimity  with  which 
this  retaliatory  sentence  was  pronounced  against  the 


236 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


ex-king  and  his  family.  At  the  passage  of  this  decret 
a  threatening  allusion  was  made  to  the  Bonaparte 
family  by  some  members  of  the  Assembly.  Three 
members  of  the  Bonaparte  family  —  Pierre  Napoleon, 
son  of  Lncien  ;  Jerome  Napoleon,  son  of  Jerome;  and 
Napoleon  Achille  Murat,  son  of  Caroline  Bonaparte, 
and  all  nephews  of  the  Emperor — had  entered  France 
immediately  after  the  Revolution,  and  had  been  elected 
delegates  to  the  National  Assembly.  They  manifested 
great  excitement  on  the  occasion,  and  asserted  their 
rights  of  citizenship  on  the  ground  of  their  election  to 
that  body  by  the  people.  There  was  no  desire,  how¬ 
ever,  to  exclude  them  from  France,  Louis  Napoleon 
only  being  the  object  of  republican  jealousy,  he  having 
-on  two  occasions  attempted  to  make  himself  Emperor 
of  France.  The  proposition  thus  made  in  the  Assem¬ 
bly,  drew  the  following  letter  from  Louis  Napoleon  : 

TO  THE  NATIONAL  ASSEMBLY. 

“  London,  23rd  May,  1848. 

“  Citizen  Representatives,  —  I  learn,  by  the  news¬ 
papers  of  the  22d  inst.,  that  it  has  been  proposed  in 
the  National  Assembly  to  retain  against  me  alone, 
the  law  of  exile  which  has  been  in  force  against 
my  family  since  the  year  1816 ;  I  now  apply  to  the 
representatives  of  the  people  to  know  why  I  have 
merited  this  penalty? 

“  Can  it  be  for  having  always  publicly  declared  that, 
in  my  opinion,  France  was  not  the  property  ( apanage ) 
either  of  an  individual,  or  of  a  family,  or  of  a  party? 

“  Can  it  be  because,  desiring  to  accomplish  the  tri¬ 
umph,  without  anarchy  or  license,  of  the  principles  of 
national  sovereignty,  which  alone  can  put  an  end  to . 
our  dissensions,  I  have  been  twice  the  victim  of  my 
hostility  to  a  government  which  you  have  overthrown? 

“  Can  it  be  for  having  consented,  out  of  deference  to 


THE  TKIKCE  A  DELEGATE. 


287 


the  wish  of  the  provisional  government,  to  return  to 
a  foreign  country  after  having  hastened  to  Paris  upon 
the  first  news  of  the  Revolution?  Can  it  be  because  I 
disinterestedly  refused  seats  in  the  Assembly  which 
were  proffered  to  me,  resolved  not  to  return  to  France 
until  the  new  constitution  should  be  agreed  upon,  and 
the  republic  firmly  established? 

“The  same  reasons  which  have  made  me  take  up 
arms  against  the  government  of  Louis  Philippe,  would 
lead  me,  if  my  services  were  required,  to  devote 
myself  to  the  defense  of  the  Assembly,  the  result  of 
universal  suffrage. 

“In  the  presence  of  a  king  elected  by  two  hundred 
deputies,  I  might  have  recollected  that  I  was  heir  to 
an  empire  founded  by  the  consent  of  four  millions  of 
Frenchmen.  In  the  presence  of  the  national  sove¬ 
reignty  I  can,  nor  will  claim  more  than  my  rights  as  a 
French  citizen  ;  but  there,  I  will  demand  them  with 
that  energy  which  an  honest  heart  derives  from  the 
knowledge  of  never  having  done  any  thing  to  render  it 
unworthy  of  its  country. 

“Receive,  gentlemen,  the  assurance  of  my  sentiments 
of  high  esteem.  Your  fallen  citizen, 

“Napoleon  Louis  Bonaparte.” 

In  the  mean  time  elections  had  been  held  in  various 
parts  of  France,  to  fill  vacancies  in  the  National  As¬ 
sembly.  Louis  Napoleon  was  unexpectedly  elected  a 
delegate  from  five  different  departments.  He  ad¬ 
dressed  the  following:  letter  to  those  who  had  honored 
him  with  their  suffrages  : 

London,  June  11,  1848. 

“  Citizens,  —  Your  suffrages  fij?  me  with  gratitude. 
This  mark  of  sympathy,  which  is  the  more  flattering 
as  I  had  not  solicited  it,  found  me  at  a  moment  ivhen  I 
was  regretting  that  I  should  remain  inactive  while  my 
country  is  in  want  of  the  co-operation  of  all  her  chil¬ 
dren,  in  order  to  pass  out  of  the  difficulties  in  which 
ihe  is  now  placed. 


2S8 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


“The  confidence  you  have  reposed  in  me  imposes 
duties  which  I  shall  know  how  to  fulfill.  Our  in¬ 
terests,  our  sentiments,  our  aspirations,  are  the  same. 
A  native  of  Paris,  and  now  a  representative  of  the 
people,  I  shall  join  my  efforts  to  those  of  my  colleagues 
in  order  to  re-establish  order,  public  credit,  and  indus¬ 
try  ;  to  insure  peaceful  relations  abroad ;  to  consoli¬ 
date  democratic  institutions  ;  and  to  conciliate  interests 
which  now  seem  to  be  adverse  to  one  another,  simply 
because  they  suspect  one  another,  and  clash,  instead  of 
marching  together  toward  a  single  object  —  that  of  the 
prosperity  and  grandeur  of  the  country. 

“  The  people  have  been  free  since  the  24th  of  Febru¬ 
ary.  It  may  obtain  any  thing,  (it  requires?)  without 
recourse  to  brute  force.  Let  us,  then,  rally  ourselves 
round  the  altars  of  the  country,  under  the  flag  of  the 
republic,  and  let  us  present  to  the  wrorld  the  grand 
spectacle  of  a  people  regenerating  itself  without  vio¬ 
lence,  without  civil  contests,  without  anarchy. 

“  Receive,  my  dear  fellow-citizens,  the  assurance  of 
my  devotedness,  and  of  my  sympathies. 

“Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte.” 

Some  days  afterward,  Louis  Napoleon  learned  that 
the  hostility  against  him  in  the  Assembly  was  so  great 
that  he  could  not  safely  take  his  seat  as  a  delegate,  and 
he  therefore  wrote  a  letter  resigning  the  place  to  which 
he  had  been  elected.  He  said  —  “I  wish  that  my  dis¬ 
interestedness  should  prove  the  sincerity  of  my  patriot¬ 
ism  ;  I  wish  that  those  who  charge  me  with  ambition 
should  be  convinced  of  their  error.”  The  next  month 
he  was  elected  a  delegate  from  the  island  of  Corsica, 
but  he  again  declined.  In  August,  however,  he  deter¬ 
mined  to  become  a  candidate  at  the  elections  called  to 
fill  vacancies  that  had  occurred  in  the  Assembly.  The 
result  of  the  election  was,  that  the  Prince  was  returned 
for  the  department  of  the  Seine,  (Paris,)  by  110,752 


THE  PKLNCELY  DELEGATE  RECEIVED.  ’ 


289 


votes,  and  also  from  Tonne,  Moselle,  Cliarente,  and 
Corsica,  in  all  of  which  he  received  large  majorities. 
He  decided  to  sit  for  Paris  his  native  city. 

It  was  on  the  26th  of  September  that  Louis  Na¬ 
poleon  Bonaparte  took  his  seat  in  the  National  Assem¬ 
bly.  lie  had  been  elected  amid  such  manifestations 
of  popular  enthusiasm  as  to  have  strengthened  the  un¬ 
easiness  and  deepened  the  distrust  with  which  the  heir 
of  the  Emperor  had  been  viewed  by  the  republican 
party.  It  was  resolved,  however,  to  treat  the  Prince 
with  perfect  indifference.  When  Louis  Napoleon  en¬ 
tered  the  hall  he  was  greeted  with  no  friendly  welcome. 
Quietly,  almost  timidly,  he  crept  to  the  seat  which  was 
held  vacant  by  his  old  tutor,  M.  Viellard,  whose  affec¬ 
tionate  smile  and  pressure  of  the  hand  were  the  only 
demonstrations  of  kindness  that  had  cheered  this 
hitherto  unfortunate  exile.  As  soon  as  the  president 
proclaimed  that  the  citizen  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte 
was  a  representative  of  the  people,  he  mounted  the 
tribune  without  a  mark  of  encouragement.  His  self- 
possession  did  not  forsake  him  as  he  proceeded  to  read 
from  a  written  paper,  which,  in  concise  and  appropriate 
language,  declared  that  he  owed  too  deep  a  debt  of 
gratitude  to  the  republic,  which  had  given  to  him,  after 
thirty-three  years  of  proscription  and  exile,  a  country 
and  the  rights  of  citizenship,  not  to  devote  himself  to 
its  service. 

Skillful,  yet  simple,  as  was  this  appeal,  it  did  not 
break  the  icy  reserve  which  had  been  adopted.  It 
was  expected  and  hoped  that  he  would  have  made  his 
appearance  in  the  midst  of  some  theatrical  display, 
some  miserable  parody  of  his  wonderful  uncle’ll 


290 


LOUI8  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


manner,  that  would  have  raised  a  laugh  fatal  to  his 
popularity.  He  did  quite  the  reverse.  Ilis  manner  was 
unassuming,  his  remarks  wrere  full  of  spirit  and  dignity. 

Shortly  after  Louis  Napoleon  took  his  seat  in  the 
Assembly,  a  discussion  arose  upon  the  articles  in  the 
constitution,  relative  to  the  presidency.  One  member 
proposed  the  insertion  of  a  proviso  declaring  that  no 
member  of  the  families  who  had  reigned  over  France 
should  be  elected  to  that  office.  This  proposition 
created  much  agitation,  but  it  was  finally  withdrawn, 
in  consequence  of  the  solemn  and  repeated  assurances 
of  Louis  Napoleon  and  the  other  members  of  the  Bo- 
naparte  family  in  the  Assembly,  that  they  were  de¬ 
voted  to  the  republic,  and  had  no  ambitious  views  to 
serve  by  its  subversion. 

In  his  address  to  the  Assembly,  on  first  taking  his 
seat  as  one  of  that  body,  he  had  said  —  “My  conduct, 
you  may  be  certain,  shall  ever  be  guided  by  a  respect¬ 
ful  devotion  to  the  law.  It  will  prove,  to  the  confusion 
of  those  who  have  attempted  to  slander  me,  that  no 
man  is  more  devoted  than  I  am  to  the  defense  of  order 
and  the  consolidation  of  the  Republic.”  When  it  was 
proposed  to  exclude  both  Bonapartes  and  Bourbons 
from  eligibility  to  the  presidency  of  France,  Louis  Na¬ 
poleon,  with  apparent  humility,  declared,  “  that  he  was 
too  grateful  to  the  nation  for  restoring  to  him  his  rights 
as  a  citizen,  to  have  any  other  ambition.”  This  assur¬ 
ance  being  given,  the  proposition  was  withdrawn.  In 
another  address  to  the  Assembly,  he  exclaimed, — 
“Flow  little  do  those  who  charge  me  with  ambition 
know  my  heart!”  Yet  two  weeks  afterward  Louis 
Napoleon  was  publicly  announced  as  a  candidate  for 
the  presidency. 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  FRENCH  PEOPLE. 


291 


The  presidential  election  was  to  be  held  on  the  10th 
of  December.  Louis  Napoleon  was  among  the  candi¬ 
dates,  and  he  lost  no  time  in  issuing  the  following 
address  to  the  French  people. 

“Fellow  Citizens, — In  order  to  recall  me  from 
exile,  you  elected  me  a  representative  of  the  people. 
On  the  eve  of  your  proceeding  to  the  election  of  chief 
magistrate  of  the  republic,  my  name  presents  itself  to 
you  as  a  symbol  of  order  and  security. 

“These  testimonies  of  a  confidence  so  honorable,  are 
due,  I  am  aware,  much  more  to  the  name  which  I  bear 
than  to  myself,  who  have  as  yet  done  nothing  for  my 
country;  —  but  the  more  the  memory  of  the  Emperor 
protects  me,  and  inspires  your  suffrages,  the  more  I 
feel  myself  called  upon  to  make  known  to  you  my 
sentiments  and  principles.  There  must  not  be  any 
thing  equivocal  in  the  relations  between  us. 

“I  am  not  an  ambitious  man,  who  dreams  at  one  time 
of  the  empire  and  of  wTar;  at  another  of  the  adoption 
of  subversive  theories.  Educated  in  free  countries, 
and  in  the  school  of  misfortune,  I  shall  always  remain 
faithful  to  the  duties  which  your  suffrages,  and  the  will 
of  the  Assembly,  may  impose  upon  me. 

“If  I  am  elected  president,  I  should  not  shrink  from 
any  danger,  from  any  sacrifice,  to  defend  society, 
which  has  been  so  audaciously  attacked.  I  should 
devote  myself  wholly,  without  reserve,  to  the  confirm¬ 
ing  of  a  republic,  which  has  shown  itself  wise  by  its 
laws,  honest  in  its  intentions,  great  and  powerful  by 
its  acts. 

“I  pledge  my  honor  to  leave  to  my  successor,  at  the 
end  of  four  years,  the  executive  powers  strengthened, 
liberty  intact,  and  a  real  progress  accomplished. 

“Whatever  may  be  the  result  of  the  election,  I  shall 
bow  to  the  will  of  the  people ;  and  I  pledge  before¬ 
hand,  my  co-operation  with  any  strong  and  honest 
government  which  shall  re-establish  order  in  principles 
is  well  as  in  things  ;  which  shall  efficiently  protect  our 
religion,  our  families,  and  our  properties — the  eternal 


292 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


basis  of  every  social  community  ;  which  shall  attempt 
all  practicable  reform,  assuage  animosities,  reconcile! 
parties,  and  thus  permit  a  country  rendered  anxious 
by  circumstances,  to  count  upon  the  morrow. 

“To  re-establish  order  is  to  restore  confidence  —  to 
repair,  by  means  of  credit,  the  temporary  depreciation 
of  resources  —  to  restore  financial  positions  and  revive 
commerce. 

“To  protect  the  religion  and  the  rights  of  families,  is 
to  insure  the  freedom  of  public  worship  and  education. 

“To  protect  property  is  to  maintain  the  inviolability 
of  the  fruits  of  every  man’s  labor ;  it  is  to  guarantee! 
the  independence  and  the  security  of  possession,  an 
indispensable  foundation  for  all  civil  liberties. 

“As  to  the  reforms  which  are  possible,  the  following 
are  those  which  appear  to  me  to  be  the  most  urgent:  — 

“To  adopt  all  those  measures  of  economy,  which 
without  occasioning  disorder  in  the  public  service,  wil 
permit  a  reduction  of  those  taxes  which  press  most 
heavily  on  the  people — to  encourage  enterprises  which, 
while  they  develop  agricultural  wealth,  may,  both  ii 
France  and  Algeria,  give  work  to  hands  at  present 
unoccupied  — to  provide  for  the  relief  of  laborers  ir 
their  old  age,  by  means  of  provident  institutions  — 1( 
introduce  into  industrial  laws,  modifications  which  may' 
tend  not  to  ruin  the  rich  for  the  gain  of  the  poor,  bu 
to  establish  the  well-being  of  each  upon  the  prosperity 
of  all. 

“To  restrict  within  just  limits  the  number  of  einj 
ployments  which  shall  depend  upon  the  government: 
and  which  often  convert  a  free  people  into  a  natioij 
of  beggars. 

“To  avoid  that  deplorable  tendency  which  leads  tin 
state  to  do  that  which  individuals  may  do  as  well,  ano 
better,  for  themselves.  The  centralization  of  interest 
and  enterprises  is  in  the  nature  of  despotism:  tin 
nature  of  a  republic  is  to  reject  monopolies. 

“Finally,  to  protect  the  liberty  of  the  press  from  thj 
two  excesses  which  endanger  it  at  present  —  that  oj 
arbitrary  authority  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  its  owi 
licentiousness  on  the  other. 


GENERAL  CAVAIGNAC. 


293 


“With  war  we  can  have  no  relief  to  our  ills.  Peace, 
therefore,  would  be  the  dearest  object  of  my  desire. 
France,  at  the  time  of  her  first  Revolution,  was  war¬ 
like,  because  others  forced  her  to  be  so.  Threatened 
with  invasion,  she  replied  by  conquest.  Row  she  is 
not  threatened,  she  is  free  to  concentrate  all  her  re¬ 
sources  to  pacific  measures  of  amelioration,  without 
abandoning  a  loyal  and  resolute  policy.  A  great 
nation  ought  to  be  silent,  or  never  to  speak  in  vain. 

“To  have  regard  for  the  national  dignity  is  to  have 
regard  for  the  army,  whose  patriotism,  so  noble  and 
so  disinterested,  has  frequently  been  neglected.  We 
ought,  while  we  maintain  the  fundamental  laws  which 
are  the  strength  of  our  military  organization,  to  alle¬ 
viate,  and  not  aggravate,  the  burden  of  the  conscrip¬ 
tion.  We  ought  to  take  care  of  the  present  and  future 
interests,  not  only  of  the  officers,  but  likewise  of  the 
non-commissioned  officers  and  privates,  and  prepare  a 
certain  means  of  subsistence  for  men  who  have  long 
served  under  our  colors. 

“The  republic  ought  to  be  generous,  and  have  faith 
in  its  future  prospects  ;  and,  for  my  part,  I,  who  have 
suffered  exile  and  captivity,  appeal  with  all  my  warm¬ 
est  aspirations  to  that  day  when  the  country  may, 
without  danger,  put  a  stop  to  all  proscriptions,  and 
efface  the  last  traces  of  our  civil  discords. 

“Such,  my  dear  fellow-citizens,  are  the  ideas  which 
1  should  bring  to  bear  upon  the  functions  of  govern- 
nent,  if  you  were  to  call  me  to  the  presidency  of 
he  republic. 

“The  task  is  a  difficult  one  —  the  mission  immense. 

[  know'  it.  But  I  should  not  despair  of  accomplishing 
t;  inviting  to  my  aid,  without  distinction  of  party,  all 
nen  who,  by  their  high  intelligence  or  their  probity, 
iave  recommended  themselves  to  public  esteem. 

“For  indeed,  when  a  man  has  the  honor  to  be  at  the 
lead  of  the  French  nation,  there  is  an  infallible  way  to 
■ucceed,  and  that  is  to  desire  to  do  so. 

“  Louis  Rapoleon  Bonaparte.” 

The  remaining  candidates  for  the  presidency  were 


294 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  UIS  TIMES. 


General  Cavaignac,  Lamartine,  Ledru-Rollin,  and  Ras- 
pail.  A  few  days  showed  that  there  were  only  two 
who  could  dispute  the  great  prize  —  General  Cavaignac 
and  Louis  Napoleon.  The  first  had  all  the  claims 
arising  from  undoubted  personal  merit  and  eminent 
services  to  his  country.  The  other  bore  a  name  dear 
to  the  French  people;  and,  if  he  had  committed  great 
faults,  he  had  paid  the  atonement  of  great  sufferings, 
which  he  had  borne  patiently.  Within  the  five  months 
that  General  Cavaignac  governed  France,  he  had 
given  proofs  of  every  qualification  necessary  to  the 
head  of  a  republic.  He  had  come  before  the  nation  an 
almost  unknown  man.  He  had  never  held  a  chief 
command  in  Algeria  before  February  ;  but  as  Colonel 
and  then  Brigadier  Cavaignac,  he  had  been  esteemed 
as  a  highly  meritorious  officer.  He  was  a  man  who 
never  sought  to  push  himself  into  notice  or  to  attract 
attention  to  his  acts.  He  drew  up  a  report  once  of  an 
affair  in  which  he  had  been  severely  wounded,  without 
mentioning  his  wound.  Appointed  governor  of  Al¬ 
geria  by  the  provisional  government,  he  set  at  once 
about  his  duties,  and  it  was  remarked  that  the  first 
paper  which  he  issued  on  his  appointment  was  of  a 
singularly  superior  kind.  Called  home  to  take  the 
post  of  minister  of  war,  he  applied  himself  to  the  duties 
of  his  department  as  if  he  had  no  other  object  to  at¬ 
tend  to.  He  sought  not  to  attract  attention  to  himself 
by  speeches,  and  he  dreamed  not  of  intrigues.  When, 
to  his  clear  judgment,  a  battle  was  impending,  he 
prepared  to  meet  it ;  when  it  came,  he  mounted  his 
horse  and  inspected  the  barricades  wTith  that  concen¬ 
trated  intensity  of  purpose  which  would  not  allow  him 
to  ward  off  the  balls  flying  about  his  head. 


TIIE  PRESIDENTIAL  ELECTION. 


295 


Elevated  to  the  head  of  the  government,  lie  applied 
himself  to  the  study  of  foreign  affairs,  and  having 
satisfied  his  mind  that  peace  was  for  the  interests  of 
France,  he  determined  that  no  earthly  consideration 
should  induce  him  to  entangle  the  country  in  a  war, 
so  long  as  her  honor  was  not  affected.  Taking  the 
lead  in  every  debate,  he  never  said  a  word  more  than 
was  essential  for  the  purpose  of  making  known  the 
views  of  government.  Nor  would  he  have  spoken  at 
all  if  he  did  not  deem  it  to  be  his  duty  to  accept, 
frankly,  the  burden  that  had  been  placed  on  his 
shoulders.  Regarding  situations  exactly  as  they  were, 
he  recognized  that,  pending  the  proposition  of  the  con¬ 
stitution,  his  government  was  only  provisional  ;  that 
the  Assembly  was  master,  and  that  he  should,  as  in 
duty  bound,  execute  the  wishes  of  the  Assembly  so 
long  as  he  held  its  confidence. 

The  election  of  General  Cavaignac  to  the  presidency 
of  the  republic  was  by  his  partisans  deemed  secure. 
He  was  a  man  whom  no  situation  had  taken  by  sur¬ 
prise;  and  as  all  situations  had  been  met  and  filled 
with  perfect  ability,  the  measure  of  such  a  man’s  ca¬ 
pacity  could  not  even  yet  be  said  to  have  been  reached. 
New  trials  were  before  the  republic,  and  there  was 
the  man,  who,  holding  a  true,  straightforward  course, 
and  taking  things  as  he  found  them,  could  yet  adapt 
himself  to  an  encounter  with  any  difficulty  with  mar¬ 
velous  plasticity.  At  the  prime  of  life — tall,  well- 
forraed,  and  dignified ;  with  the  proud  head  of  a 
Coriolanus,  and  the  sensibility  of  the  stoical  Brutus. 
His  quickness  to  feel  suspicion  or  slight,  explains  why 
he  shunned  occasions  for  display.  This  characteristic 


296 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


quality  explains,  too,  his  tenure  of  office  in  times  so 
difficult ;  for  his  readiness  to  resign  power  secured 
power  in  his  hands.  Thus,  brave,  proud,  sensitive, 
dignified,  able,  and  unostentatious ;  full  of  republican 
zeal,  and  yet  anxious  for  the  maintenance  of  all  social 
rights,  as  consecrated  by  the  sentiments,  habits,  reli¬ 
gion,  and  laws  of  society  ;  a  moral  and  military  disci¬ 
plinarian  ;  it  would  seem  as  if  providence  had  sent  the 
right  man  at  the  right  time  to  the  French  people,  and 
they  rejected  him.  Although  rejecting,  they  revered 
and  esteemed  him. 

The  election  day  arrived.  The  weather  was  of  ex¬ 
traordinary  clearness  and  beauty  for  the  season ;  the 
animal  spirits  of  the  people  rose  cheerfully.  The  name 
of  Napoleon  proved  a  charm  for  the  peasantry,  who 
marched  to  the  ballot-boxes  with  outspread  banners. 
In  the  leading  towns,  Cavaignac  was  well  supported ; 
but  the  farmers  and  peasantry  voted  almost  unani¬ 
mously  for  the  heir  of  the  Emperor.  It  was  calculated 
that  it  would  take  a  fortnight,  at  least,  to  examine  the 
votes ;  but  the  result  was  not  doubtful  from  the  first 
hour.  Conjectures  of  an  injurious  character  to  Gen¬ 
eral  Cavaignac  were  hazarded  by  people  who  did 
not  know  the  man ;  the  unworthiness  of  these  asper¬ 
sions  was  soon  demonstrated.  On  the  evening  of  the 
20th  of  December,  an  unusual  movement  was  observed 
in  Paris.  Troops,  appearing  in  all  directions,  were 
seen  converging  to  one  point  —  the  National  Assembly. 
The  avenues  to  the  Assembly  bristled  with  bayonets, 
and  were  animated  b}7  cavalry.  It  had  been  resolved 
upon  suddenly  to  proclaim  the  president  of  the  re¬ 
public,  without  waiting  until  all  the  votes  had  been 
counted.  The  reason  assigned  for  this  step  was,  to 


RESULT  OF  TIIE  ELECTION. 


297 


defeat  by  anticipation  the  suspected  designs  of  a  party, 
to  carry  Louis  Napoleon  from  the  Assembly  to  the 
Tuileries,  and  there  abrogate  the  oath  to  the  republic, 
by  proclaiming  him  Emperor.  But  the  ceremonial  of 
inaugurating  the  newly  elected  president  was  not  at¬ 
tended  by  any  disturbance.  On  counting  the  votes,  it 
was  found  that  7,327,345  had  been  cast,  and  that  of 
these  — 

The  Citizen  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte  had  obtained  5,434.226 

The  Citizen  Cavaignac . ’. .  1,448,107 

The  Citizen  Lediu-Rollin .  370,110 

The  Citizen  Raspail .  36,920 

The  Citizen  Lamartine .  17,810 

General  Cavaignac  rose,  and  without  preface, 
handed  in  the  resignation  of  ministers,  adding  simply, 
“I  came  also  to  resign  into  the  hands  of  the  Assembly 
the  power  with  which  it  was  good  enough  to  invest 
me.  The  Assembly  will  comprehend,  much  better 
than  I  can  express,  the  sentiments  of  gratitude  that  its 
confidence  and  kindness  have  ineffaceably  engraved 
on  my  memory.”  A  burst  of  enthusiastic  plaudits 
accompanied  the  gallant  General  to  his  seat.  The  suc¬ 
cessful  candidate  was  then  proclaimed  president  of  the 
republic,  and  after  a  short  address,  delivered  with 
fervor  —  an  address  conceived  in  the  most  unostenta¬ 
tious  language,  and  breathing  of  peace  and  concord, 
Louis  Napoleon  descended  from  the  tribune  and 
walked  to  the  place  where  sat  his  honored  rival,  whose 
hand  he  respectfully  took  and  pressed,  amidst  renewed 
applause.  The  Assembly  needed  no  fresh  proof  of  the 
magnanimity  of  Cavaignac ;  but  the  behavior  of  Louis 
Napoleon  at  this,  the  first  hour  of  his  triumph,  pro¬ 
duced  a  most  favorable  impression,  and  tended  to 
remove  many  prejudices.  13* 


CHAPTER  YI. 


THE  BONAPARTE  FAMILY. 

The  history  of  France,  during  the  past  sixty  years, 
bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  those  fabrications  of 
oriental  genius,  in  which  human  events  are  continually 
under  the  guidance  of  spirits  of  the  air — in  which 
fantastic  fallacies  are  erected  by  a  spell,  and  the  treas¬ 
ures  of  the  earth  developed  by  the  wave  of  a  wand  — 
in  which  the  mendicant  of  this  hour  is  exalted  into  the 
prince  of  the  next;  and  while  the  wonder  still  glitters 
before  the  eye,  another  sign  of  the  necromancer  dis¬ 
solves  the  whole  pageant  into  air  again.  A  king  of 
France  is  seized  by  his  subjects  and  beheaded.  The 
country  is  torn  in  pieces  by  fierce  and  conflicting  fac¬ 
tions.  Everywhere  confusion,  bloodshed  and  suffering, 
are  witnessed.  Suddenly  an  unknown  stripling  rushed 
forward,  collected  the  scattered  fragments  of  the  Revo¬ 
lution  and  combined  them  in  a  new  and  powerful 
shape,  changed  anarchy  into  order,  and  subdued  all 
factions  to  his  will.  Through  the  clouds  and  tempests 
of  the  Revolution,  he  sprung  into  the  highest  position 
of  power.  Placing  an  imperial  crown  upon  his  own 
brow,  he  led  his  triumphant  armies  over  all  Europe. 
Impetuous  and  daring,  from  the  first  hour  of  his  public 
life,  the  government  of  this  imperial  despot  was,  like 
himself,  a  model  of  fierce  and  indomitable  energy. 


INSTABILITY  OF  THE  MONARCHY. 


299 


Whatever  was  to  him  an  object  of  ambition,  was  in¬ 
stantly  in  his  grasp,  and  whatever  he  seized  was  made 
the  instrument  of  a  fresh  seizure.  lie  was  apparently 
the  agent  of  Providence  for  the  punishment  of  a  long 
course  of  kingly  guilt.  lie  crushed  the  monarchs  of 
Europe  in  bloody  encounters  ;  captured  their  capitals  ; 
plundered  their  provinces,  and  humbled  their  pride  by 
contemptuous  and  bitter  conditions  of  peace.  But 
when  his  destined  work  was  done  —  when  the  victims 
were  broken  on  the  wheel,  the  wheel  and  the  execu¬ 
tioner  were  alike  hurried  from  the  scene.  The  man 
who  had  guided  the  empire  of  France  in  its  track  of 
conquest  and  devastation  —  the  soul  of  all  its  strength 
and  of  its  ambition — was  swept  away.  History  has 
no  record  of  so  much  power,  so  widely  distributed, 
and  apparently  so  fixed  above  all  the  ordinary  casual¬ 
ties  of  the  world,  so  instantly  and  completely  over¬ 
thrown.  This  man  of  boundless  but  brief  grandeur, 
died  a  captive  on  a  distant  rock,  but  his  sepulcher  was 
placed  in  the  midst  of  that  people  so  slow  to  learn  that 
ambition  always  pays  for  its  splendor  by  its  calami¬ 
ties  ;  that  the  strength  of  a  nation  is  in  the  justice  of 
its  councils;  and  that  “he  who  uses  the  sword  shall 
perish  by  the  sword.”  Upon  the  fall  of  Napoleon,  the 
family  overthrown  and  driven  into  exile  by  the  Revolu¬ 
tion,  was  again  restored  to  the  throne  of  France.  But 
they  were  permitted  to  occupy  it  for  only  a  brief  period. 
Scarcely  fifteen  years  had  passed  away  when  another 
king  of  France  was  dethroned.  So  sudden  was  the 
Revolution,  so  unexpected  the  catastrophe,  that  the 
king  apprehended  no  danger  until  his  power  was  gone. 
He  left  the  card  table,  to  which  he  had  sat  down  in 


300 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


fancied  security,  to  flee  from  Lis  palace  and  from  his 
kingdom.  France  accepted  another  king,  lie  passed 
the  seventeen  years  of  his  reign  in  carefully  fortifying 
his  throne.  But  one  morning,  when  his  power  was  ap¬ 
parently  the  greatest,  and  when  his  dynasty  seemed  to 
be  firmly  established,  the  door  of  the  breakfast  room, 
where  he  was  calmly  seated  with  his  family,  was  thrown 
open  and  two  men  entered,  pale  as  ghosts.  They  were 
ministers  of  state.  Their  news  was  as  unexpected  as 
it  was  momentous.  Discontent  prevailed  in  the  city ; 
the  populace  were  out ;  the  soldiers  were  disarmed ; 
the  king’s  infuriated  subjects  were  approaching  the 
very  apartment  in  which  he  had  but  just  enjoyed  his 
meal.  It  was  enough.  “Let  us  go,”  exclaimed  the 
monarch,  and  leaning  heavily  upon  the  queen,  whose 
head  was  erect  and  haughty,  he  hurried  away.  He 
escaped  from  his  capital.  Then  shaving  off  his  whisk¬ 
ers,  putting  on  green  spectacles,  burying  his  face  in  his 
handkerchief,  speaking  English,  and  calling  himself 
William  Smith,  he  embarked  for  England.  The  other 
members  of  the  royal  family  crept  into  hiding  places, 
until  they  could  find  opportunities  to  escape  over  the 
frontiers.  Is  this  history  or  fiction?  reality  or  illusion? 
The  most  substantial  power  fades  suddenly  away,  as 
if  by  the  enchantment  of  the  genii  of  the  “Arabian 
Nights” —  kings,  to  human  view,  firmly  seated  on  their 
thrones,  become,  by  the  changes  of  an  hour,  proscribed 
and  hunted  fugitives — friendless  and  impoverished 
exiles  are  as  rapidly  and  unexpectedly  snatched  from 
their  obscurity  and  poverty,  and  invested  with  supreme 
power  and  unlimited  wealth !  The  kings  of  the  earth 
are  not  commonly  undone  by  a  single  blow ;  kingdoms 


THE  EMPRESS  MARIA  LOUISA. 


301 


do  not  change  their  dynasties  without  a  struggle.  But 
the  four  diadems  of  the  Napoleon  race,  as  well  as  those 
of  the  Bourbon  and  Orleans  families,  fell  from  their 
wearers’  brows  with  scarcely  a  touch  from  the  hands 
of  man. 

We  have  followed  one  of  the  Bonaparte  family,  from 
the  splendor  of  his  uncle’s  imperial  court  into  a  long 
and  unfortunate  exile,  and  from  exile  back  again  to 
the  highest  dignity  in  his  native  France:  it  will  not 
be  uninteresting  to  follow  the  varying  fortunes  of  the 
other  members  of  the  Bonaparte  family,  scattered  as 
they  were,  at  the  time  of  Napoleon’s  death,  over  all 
parts  of  the  civilized  world.  And  first,  of  Maria 
Louisa,  the  wife  of  the  Emperor,  and  her  infant  son, 
the  King  of  Rome. 

Maria  Louisa  at  the  time  of  her  marriage  with  Na¬ 
poleon,  in  1810,  was  nineteen  years  of  age,  tall  and 
fair,  but  not  beautiful.  She  had  been  taught,  like  all 
princesses,  to  embroider,  to  paint,  and  to  play  on  the 
piano.  Beyond  this  she  was  educated  in  little  else 
than  hatred  of  Bonaparte  and  the  French;  for  the 
king-slayers  had  been  twice  at  the  gates  of  her  father. 
Austria  had  twice  lost  all,  and  had  nothing  to  give, 
when  the  lion  roared  for  more  prey,  except  her  own 
flesh  and  blood.  So  Maria  Louisa  was  yielded  up. 
The  mild  creature  never  had  an  independent  wish  of 
her  own  ;  she  never  knew  how  to  show  any  reluctance 
to  other  people’s  demands.  She  had  been  taught  to 
hate,  and  she  hated ;  she  was  now  bidden  to  love,  and 
she  married.  When,  in  1814,  dangers  and  disasters 
were  thickening:  around  the  devoted  head  of  her  im- 
perial  husband,  she  hastened  the  catastrophe  by  fleeing 


302 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


from  France  with  her  reluctant  infant.  From  this 
moment  she  considered  herself  to  be  virtually  divorced 
from  him.  The  idea  of  sharing  his  misfortunes,  and 
of  soothing  his  agony,  never  entered  her  head.  He 
became  once  more  the  arch-fiend  and  ogre  of  her  child¬ 
hood.  Ilis  solicitations  that  she  shoidd  join  him  were 
disregarded.  From  the  first  instant  of  her  departure 
from  Paris,  no  symptom  of  affection  for  her  husband, 
or  sympathy  for  hi6  fate,  was  witnessed  in  her.  After 
her  return  to  Austria,  her  time  was  spent  in  the  most 
frivolous  occupations.  She  even  joined  her  relations 
in  their  clamorous  rejoicings  at  the  enemy's  downfall. 
Her  aunt,  Maria  Caroline  of  Maples,  gave  her  a  hint  as 
to  the  propriety  of  tying  up  her  bed-clothes,  to  let  her¬ 
self  down  from  a  window,  and  of  joining  her  husband 
at  Elba.  But  Maria  Louisa  evinced  no  desire  to  cling 
to  the  wreck  of  departed  greatness.  In  the  duchy  of 
Parma,  over  which  the  allied  powers  had  promised  to 
make  her  sovereign,  all  her  ambition  was  centered. 
She  dwelt,  with  an  inconceivable  fondness,  on  the  pros¬ 
pects  of  unshared  sovereignty  ;  and  her  anxiety  for  the 
exercise  of  undivided  dominion  wras  increased  by  the 
artful  postponement  of  its  enjoyment.  The  allies  re¬ 
quired  her  to  divest  herself  of  her  proud  titles ;  to 
forget  her  husband  ;  to  deliver  all  his  letters  into  her 
father’s  hands ;  to  cease  from  all  correspondence  with 
him ;  to  surrender  her  son  to  an  Austrian  governess ; 
to  renounce,  in  his  name,  all  rights  of  succession  to  the 
French  throne ;  to  rebaptize  him  as  Charles  Joseph, 
Duke  of  Reichstadt ;  and  to  suffer  him  to  linger  be¬ 
hind,  in  a  kind  of  imprisonment,  at  Schonbrunn.  Her 
obedience  outdid  even  the  immoderateness  of  their 


MARIA  LOUISA. 


303 


demands.  She  was,  above  all  things,  eager  to  advance 
her  prospects  as  a  candidate  for  an  Italian  principality. 

In  1814,  while  Napoleon  was  at  Elba,  she  was  permit¬ 
ted  to  go,  unattended  by  her  son,  to  the  baths  of  Aix, 
in  Savoy.  There  she  was  tempted  into  a  career  of 
profligacy.  Her  father,  who  had  sacrificed  her  heart 
as  a  bride,  seemed  not  unwilling  to  even  immolate  her 
fame  as  a  wife.  All  that  remained  pure  and  ingenuous 
in  the  character  of  the  ex-empress  was  corrupted  among 
the  pleasures  and  dissipations  at  Aix.  She  became 
discreditably  intimate  with  the  Count  of  Neipperg,  a 
Hungarian  nobleman.  In  one  of  his  early  campaigns 
the  count  had  lost  an  eye  ;  but  that  honorable  wound 
was  carefully  covered  by  a  black  band  drawn  round 
the  brow  in  the  shape  of  a  diadem,  and  there  re¬ 
mained  charm  enough  in  the  one  eye  he  had  left  to 
drive  Napoleon’s  image  from  the  heart  of  Maria- 
Louisa.  As  her  private  secretary,  the  count  was 
brought  into  the  closest  intimacy  with  his  royal  mis¬ 
tress.  In  consultations  of  state,  (for  the  duchess  busied 
herself  much  respecting  her  future  subjects,)  as  well  as 
in  parties  of  pleasure,  riding,  dancing,  or  traveling, 
they  were  inseparable.  She  was  encouraged  in  this 
career  of  folly,  not  only  by  the  courts  of  Europe,  but 
by  her  own  father.  In  her  and  in  her  sickly  son,  the 
Duke  of  Reichstadt,  were  centered  the  hopes  of  the 
Bonapartists.  As  a  virtuous  woman  she  would  have 
still  been  formidable ;  but  she  soon  ceased  to  be 
virtuous. 

Her  base  intrigues  with  Neipperg  continued  at 
Vienna,  wnere  the  count  accompanied  his  sovereign 
lady  in  September,  1814.  A  few  months  afterward 


304 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


Napoleon  was  again  triumphant  in  Paris.  Maria 
Louisa  was  in  a  fever  of  anxiety  about  her  hard-won 
Italian  sovereignty,  which  that  untimely  invasion 
might  wrench  from  her  grasp.  Under  that  apprehen¬ 
sion  she  solemnly  disclaimed  all  knowledge  of,  or 
participation  in,  her  husband’s  enterprise,  and  im¬ 
plored  the  protection  of  her  father  and  the  allies  against 
him,  as  against  her  most  dangerous  enemy.  She  re¬ 
jected  all  his  advances,  revealed  and  frustrated  an 
attempt  made  by  his  friends  to  carry  her  off  with  her 
child,  and  then  sat  down  to  embroider  banners  for  the 
Austrian  regiments  warring  against  him! 

In  1816,  surrounded  by  pomp  and  magnificence, 
with  her  one-eyed  secretary  by  her  side,  Maria  Louisa 
was  permitted  to  enter  her  insignificant  principality. 

The  duchy  of  Parma,  Piacenza,  and  Guastalla  is  one 
of  the  most  fertile  and  beautiful  districts  in  the  valley 
of  the  Po.  It  is  about  2,200  square  miles  in  extent, 
and  the  population  has  never  exceeded  half  a  million. 
In  the  middle  ages  it  consisted  of  three  petty  states : 
they  shed  their  best  blood  in  endless  as  well  as  useless 
feuds,  till,  after  passing  from  one  tyrant’s  hands  to 
another’s — from  Correggio  to  Visconti,  and  from 
Visconti  to  Este  —  they  were  finally  united  into  an 
independent  duchy  by  Pope  Paul  III.,  who  invested 
his  illegitimate  son,  Pier  Luigi  Farnese,  with  the 
sovereignty  ;  and  although  that  son  of  a  pope  did  not 
fare  too  well  at  the  hands  of  his  subjects,  who  strangled 
and  flung  him  from  a  high  window  of  the  citadel  of 
Piacenza  into  the  moat  beneath,  yet  the  sovereignty 
remained  in  possession  of  his  descendants,  some  of 
whom  became  famous,  or  infamous,  in  history.  Like 


mar; A  LOUISA. 


305 


most  other  Italian  reigning  families,  the  Farnese  be¬ 
came  extinct  from  their  impotence,  occasioned  by 
habitual  debauchery,  in  1748.  The  ill-fated  duchy 
became  a  bone  of  contention  for  all  the  powers  of 
Europe,  and  had,  in  the  end,  to  pay  most  of  the  expense 
of  the  wars  it  had  given  rise  to.  It  was  finally 
adjudged  to  belong  to  Don  Philip,  one  of  the  Spanish 
Bourbons.  Don  Philip  having  broken  his  neck  in  the 
chase,  Don  Ferdinand,  his  son  and  successor,  called 
the  bell-ringer  from  his  partiality  for  that  pious  and 
healthy  exercise,  found  himself  involved  in  the  great 
catastrophe  of  the  French  invasion,  and,  in  1802,  his 
duchy  was  united  to  France.  To  the  prejudice  of  the 
heir  of  Don  Ferdinand,  an  illegitimate  child,  the  duchy 
was  bestowed  upon  Maria  Louisa.  Her  reign  was 
one  of  gayety  and  extravagance.  She  lavished  large 
sums  upon  the  erection  of  a  theater,  and  was  proud  of 
possessing  an  unrivaled  orchestra  ;  she  bid  a  cheer¬ 
ful  welcome  to  all  the  strolling  fiddlers  and  play¬ 
ers  who  applied  to  her  for  patronage.  She  took  an 
active  part  in  all  the  gorgeous  processions,  and  was 
the  soul  of  the  carnival.  Her  theaters,  her  menageries 
and  aviaries  ;  her  superb  villas  and  magnificent  train ; 
her  regiment  of  grenadiers  ;  her  profuse  liberality  to 
mimes  and  charlatans, —  before  long  exhausted  her 
revenue.  Already,  at  her  arrival,  the  new  duchess 
had  been  preceded  by  a  decree  raising  a  sum  of 
$600,000,  with  which  her  subjects  'were  to  pay  for  the 
honor  of  receiving  an  Austrian  archduchess  for  their 
liege  lady.  Ever  afterward,  money  went  over  to 
Austria,  under  a  thousand  pretexts,  and  without  pre¬ 
texts.  It  was  now  a  tribute  of  vassalage,  now  a 


306 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


bargain  of  allegiance.  Parmesan  manufactures  were 
closed,  as  injurious  to  Austrian  industry.  Parmesan 
steamboats  on  the  Po  were  stopped,  as  encroaching  on 
Austrian  commerce.  Ignorance  and  filial  submissive- 
ness  might  account  for  this  mismanagement  of  her 
subjects’  interests.  She  knew  she  could  do  no  better. 
But  the  amount  of  her  own  prodigality,  and  the  foolish 
expenses  of  her  endless  journeyings,  were  not  less  fatal 
to  the  state  than  the  insatiate  cupidity  of  Austria. 
She  was  never  long  in  her  own  dominions,  blow  she 
had  her  son  to  embrace  at  Munich  ;  now  a  new  gown 
to  try  on  at  Milan  ;  then  a  wedding  to  attend,  or  a 
christening,  or  a  funeral ;  and  wherever  she  went, 
there  followed  a  long  caravan  of  dames,  pages,  grooms, 
lapdoge  and  monkeys.  She  went  through  Europe  as 
an  empress.  Newspapers  expatiated  on  her  splendid 
attire  and  her  unbounded  liberalities.  No  one  knew 
what  terrible  grinding  all  this  extravagance  inflicted 
on  her  people. 

The  scandalous  intimacy  of  Maria  Louisa  with 
Neipperg  was  continued  until  she  heard  of  the  death 
of  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena,  when  she  married  her 
one-eyed  lover.  Three  children  were  the  offspring  of 
this  connection.  If  we  are  to  believe  all  the  scandals 
current  at  Parma,  Neipperg  had  no  easy  time  with  his 
mistress.  Her  confessor,  a  German  youth,  stout  and 
rosy,  was  made  a  bishop  to  remove  him  from  his  too 
fond  penitent.  Captain  Crotti,  a  handsome  Italian, 
and  Mac  Aulay,  an  ardent  Irishman,  it  was  thought 
judicious  to  remove  from  the  neighborhood  of  the 
susceptible  lady.1  But  Neipperg  died  in  1828,  and 
Maria  Louisa  was  free  again  to  select  her  favorites. 


TIIE  SON  OF  BONAPARTE. 


307 


During  the  revolutions  of  1838,  the  successor  of 
Neipperg,  for  the  time  being,  was  a  Baron  Yerclein, 
who  was  far  from  being  popular  with  the  Parmese. 
He  and  his  mistress  were  driven  from  the  duchy. 
She  was  finally  permitted  to  return,  but  the  favorite 
was  not.  Instead,  she  was  constrained  to  accept  of 
one  Mistrali,  as  principal  minister  of  state.  This 
able  and  conscientious  man  undertook  to  repair  the 
shattered  finances  of  the  principality ;  and  by  a  wise 
and  firm  rule  he  got  his  sovereign  out  of  debt.  The 
duchess  herself  was  the  first  victim  of  the  minister’s 
economical  schemes.  He  reduced  her  household ; 
bullied  her  singers  and  fiddlers  from  the  court ;  car¬ 
ried  havoc  and  devastation  among  her  parrots  and 
monkeys ;  sold  her  diamonds  and  melted  her  jewels. 
The  results  of  this  policy  was  an  unembarrassed  ex¬ 
chequer.  Maria  Louisa  would  have  grumbled,  but  she 
dared  not.  4 

In  this  state  of  distress  she  bethought  herself  of  the 
priests.  Like  many  a  wanton,  she  was  destined  to  die 
a  bigot.  In  1834  she  grew  devout  and  married 
Bombelles,  an  old  dandy,  at  the  same  time.  She 
spent  the  remainder  of  her  days  mostly  at  Schon- 
brunn,  for  her  subjects  hated  her  too  cordially  to 
make  her  residence  in  Parma  agreeable  to  her.  She 
died  in  the  year  1848. 

The  life  of  young  Napoleon  makes  but  a  meager  little 
story,  interesting,  one  might  say,  only  from  its  very 
insignificance.  As  if  to  sever  him  completely  from 
all  the  circumstances  that  had  marked  his  birth,  he 
had  hardly  set  his  foot  in  Austria  when  the  very  name 
he  bore  was  taken  from  him.  During  his  mother’s 


308 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


life,  lie  was  to  depend  on  her,  and  her  only ;  after  her 
death,  he  was  to  enter  on  the  possession  of  a  property 
assigned  to  him  by  his  grandfather  —  an  estate  in 
Bohemia,  with  a  revenue  of  about  $100,000.  In  the 
mean  time,  laying  aside  his  baptismal  name  of  Na- 
poleon-Franqois,  he  was  to  assume  the  name  and  title 
of  Francis  Joseph  Charles,  Duke  of  Reichstadt,  rank¬ 
ing,  by  virtue  of  that  title,  among  the  nobility  of  the 
Austrian  empire,  immediately  after  the  princes  of  the 
imperial  family,  the  archdukes  of  Austria. 

Only  three  years  of  age  when  he  went  with  his 
mother  to  reside  at  Scbonbrunn,  the  young  Duke  of 
Reichstadt  spent  the  whole  remainder  of  his  life  either 
there  or  at  Vienna ;  only  on  one  or  two  occasions 
traveling  from  either  beyond  the  distance  of  a  few 
miles.  By  his  grandfather,  the  Emperor,  as  well  as  by 
all  the  other  members  of  the  royal  family,  he  seems 
to  have  been  always  treated  with  extreme  kindness. 
After  the  departure  of  his  mother  for  her  Italian  states, 
he  was  committed  to  the  care  of  various  masters, 
under  the  superintendence  of  an  Austrian  nobleman. 
Regarding  his  early  education,  only  two  facts  of  any 
interest  are  mentioned :  his  excessive  reluctance  at 
first  to  learn  German,  which,  however,  soon  became 
more  his  own  than  French  ;  and  his  fondness  for  his¬ 
torical  reading,  and  especially  for  books  relating  to  the 
career  of  his  father.  As  a  boy,  he  was,  on  the  whole, 
dull,  grave,  and  mirthless  ;  but  docile  and  affectionate. 

The  news  of  his  father’s  death,  which  occurred  when 
he  was  ten  years  of  age,  is  said  to  have  produced  a 
visible  effect  on  him.  It  was  evident,  indeed,  that  the 
boy,  young  as  he  was,  had  been  brooding  in  secret 


THE  SON  OF  BONAPARTE. 


309 


over  the  mystery  of  his  own  changed  condition,  and 
cherishing,  as  well  as  he  could,  the  thought  of  his  con¬ 
nection  with  the  extraordinary  being  whom  he  could 
dimly  recollect  as  his  father ;  whose  busts  and  portraits 
he  could  still  see ;  and  who,  as  they  tried  to  explain  to 
him,  was  now  living  shut  up  in  an  island  on  the  other 
side  of  the  earth,  whither  the  nations  of  Europe  had 
conspired  to  send  him  for  their  own  safety.  This 
thought  of  his  father  became  the  boy’s  single  passion  ; 
and  when  he  could  no  longer  think  of  that  father  as 
Btill  existing  on  the  earth,  his  respect  for  his  memory 
amounted  to  a  worship.  Every  book  that  could  tell 
him  any  thing  about  his  father,  he  devoured  with 
eagerness  ;  and  if  he  chanced  to  hear  of  the  arrival 
of  any  one  at  Vienna  who  had  had  personal  relations 
with  the  Emperor,  he  was  uneasy  till  he  had  seen  him. 
At  last,  to  gratify  this  anxiety  for  information  about 
his  father,  his  tutors,  at  his  grandfather’s  command, 
began  to  instruct  him  systematically  in  modern  history 
and  politics ;  concealing  from  him  nothing  that  could 
enlighten  him  as  to  the  Teal  course  of  his  father’s  life, 
and  its  effects  on  the  condition  of  Europe,  and  only 
adding  such  comments  and  expositions  as  might  make 
him  aware,  at  the  same  time,  in  what  points  his  father 
was  thought  to  be  reprehensible.  Perplexed  by  such 
lessons  in  history,  the  poor  boy  did  his  best  to  come  to 
the  right  conclusion,  and  to  express  himself  judiciously 
to  his  tutors  regarding  what  he  was  taught  to  con¬ 
sider  his  father’s  errors  and  excesses.  In  all  cases  of 
feeling  and  instinct,  however,  the  memory  of  his 
father  prevailed.  The  very  books  that  his  father  had 
liked,  6uch  as  Tasso  and  Ossian,  became,  for  that 


310  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

reason,  his  favorites.  Ilis  father’s  campaigns  and 
dispatches  he  made  a  subject  of  diligent  study,  using 
them  as  texts  for  his  own  military  lessons.  In  short, 
before  he  had  attained  his  seventeenth  year,  he  had 
read  and  re-read  every  thing  that  had  been  written 
regarding  Napoleon,  and  had  fixed  in  his  memory  all 
the  most  minute  particulars  relating  either  to  his 
military  or  political  life,  the  names  of  his  generals,  his 
chief  battles,  and  the  various  incidents  in  his  long 
career,  from  his  birth  in  Corsica  to  his  burial  in  St. 
Helena.  One  point  in  this  great  history  he  would 
dwell  on  with  special  interest  —  that,  amid  universal 
acclamations,  he  himself  had  come  into  the  world  the 
unconscious  heir  of  a  mighty  empire. 

This  brooding  on  the  past  naturally  assumed,  as  he 
grew  up,  the  form  of  a  restless  anxiety,  respecting  the 
future.  That  he,  the  son  of  Napoleon,  was  no  common 
person  ;  that,  as  the  possessor  of  a  great  name,  superior 
actions  and  qualifications  would  be  required  of  him ; 
that  in  some  wray  or  other,  he  must  take  part  in  the 
affairs  of  Europe  —  such  was  the  idea  that  inevitably 
took  possession  of  him.  The  pedantry  of  his  teachers 
appears  to  have  fostered  it  to  an  undue  extent.  If,  for 
example,  the  poor  youth  contracted  an  admiration  for 
the  poet  Byron,  his  teachers  were  at  hand  to  criticise 
the  poet  for  him,  and  reduce  his  opinion  to  the  just 
shape  and  standard,  lest  he  should  commit  what  in  his 
case  would  be  the  signal  impropriety  of  exaggerated 
praise.  If,  again,  he  was  seen  to  be  falling  in  love 
with  a  lady  of  his  grandfather’s  court,  they  were  at 
hand  to  reason  him  out  of  the  affair  by  considerations 
of  what  was  due  to  his  peculiar  situation,  and  his 


THE  SON  OF  NAPOLEON. 


311 


importance  in  the  public  eye.  With  this  notion  of  the 
peculiarity  of  his  position  brandished  before  him  from 
morning  to  night,  he  would  go  moping  about  the 
imperial  court,  an  amiable  youth,  the  prey  of  unknown 
cares.  And  what,  after  all,  was  the  peculiarity  of  his 
situation,  except  extreme  insignificance?  A  pensioner, 
in  the  mean  time,  on  the  imperial  bounty,  ultimately 
the  mere  possessor  of  some  Bohemian  estates,  doomed 
to  inactivity  by  the  misfortune  of  too  great  a  name, — 
was  there  not  a  mockery  in  all  this  solicitude  of  which 
he  found  himself  the  object?  Haunted,  it  would  ap¬ 
pear,  by  some  such  feeling,  and  yet  carried  forward  by 
the  restless  sense  that  he  must  do  something  or  other 
to  merit  his  name,  he  seemed  to  have  grasped  eagerly 
at  the  only  chance  of  activity  that  was  presented  to 
him  —  military  promotion  in  his  grandfather’s  ser¬ 
vice.  Hence  the  assiduity  with  which  he  pursued  his 
military  studies,  and  the  regularity  with  which  he  pre¬ 
sented  himself  on  horseback  at  all  review's  and  parades; 
the  Viennese  pointing  him  out  to  strangers  on  such 
occasions,  as  the  son  of  Napoleon.  When,  at  last,  after 
going  through  the  previous  grades,  he  was  permitted 
by  his  grandfather  to  assume  the  rank  and  uniform  of 
a  lieutenant-colonel,  his  delight  was  unbounded.  For 
three  days  the  poor  youth  appeared  at  the  head  of  his 
regiment,  giving  the  word  of  command  ;  on  the  fourth 
he  w'as  laid  aside  with  loss  of  voice. 

There  was  one  quarter  of  the  political  horizon,  how¬ 
ever,  to  which  the  son  of  Napoleon  would  often  wist¬ 
fully  look  —  that  France  to  which  he  belonged;  to 
which  his  dying  father  had  bequeathed  him  with  such 
solemn  injunctions  that  they  should  be  true  the  one  to 


312 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


the  other ;  and  where,  even  yet,  there  were  myriads  of 
veteran  hearts  that  beat  high  at  the  name  of  Bonaparte. 
Ilis  Austrian  education  had  indeed  isolated  him  from 
all  means  of  direct  communication  with  his  native 
country,  and  had  made  him,  in  many  respects,  an  alien 
from  it;  but  certain  chords  there  were  that  no  force 
could  snap,  which  still  secretly  bound  him  to  France. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  he  was  personally  forgotten  or 
unknown,  in  the  city  that  he  thus  knew  only  from  the 
map,  there  were  at  least  principles  and  men  there  that 
were  ready  to  burst  out  in  his  behalf.  So,  at  all  events, 
it  appeared  when  the  Revolution  of  July,  1830,  came 
to  be  transacted.  Had  the  young  Napoleon  been  in 
Paris,  or  near  it,  when  that  Revolution  occurred,  how 
different  might  have  been  the  issue !  “  Absent  as  he 

was,  (says  a  French  writer,)  if  an  old  general  of  the 
Emperor  had  but  pronounced  his  name  to  the  people, 
France  might  have  had  a  Napoleon  II.  instead  of  a 
Louis  Philippe.”  Some  timid  Bonapartist  attempts,  it 
appears,  were  actually  made.  In  Paris  one  Bona¬ 
partist,  who  came  to  a  meeting  of  the  leading  politi¬ 
cians  with  the  name  of  the  Duke  of  Reichstadt  on  his 
lips,  was  dexterously  locked  up  in  a  room  till  the 
business  was  over.  Communications  were  even  con¬ 
veyed  to  the  duke  himself.  When  the  news  of  the 
Revolution  reached  Vienna,  the  young  man  could  not 
conceal  his  agitation  ;  he  even  requested,  it  is  said,  in 
the  flutter  of  the  moment,  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  the 
assistance  of  Charles  X.  But  with  the  news  of  the 
accession  of  Louis  Philippe,  other  thoughts  succeeded. 
One  evening,  as  he  was  ascending  a  staircase  in  the 
imperial  palace,  a  young  woman,  enveloped  in  a 


THE  SON  OF  BONAPARTE. 


313 


Scotch  plaid,  rushed  forward  from  a  landing-place 
where  she  seemed  to  have  been  waiting,  and  taking 
his  hand,  pressed  it  eagerly  to  her  lips.  Ilis  tutor, 
who  was  with  him,  asked  her  business.  “May  I  not 
kiss,  (she  said,)  the  hand  of  my  sovereign’s  son?”  and 
immediately  disappeared.  For  some  time,  the  inci¬ 
dent  could  not  be  explained,  but  at  length  no  doubt 
remained  that  the  fair  stranger  was  his  cousin,  the 
Countess  Camerata,  a  married  daughter  of  his  de¬ 
ceased  aunt  Bacchiochi.  On  a  visit  to  Vienna,  the 
countess  had  constituted  herself  the  medium  of  com¬ 
munication  between  the  Bonapartists  and  her  young 
cousin,  to  whom  she  even  ventured,  some  months  after 
the  Revolution  of  July,  to  address  a  letter,  encourag¬ 
ing  him,  even  then,  to  assume  a  decided  part.  From 
these,  and  all  overtures  of  the  same  kind,  the  poor 
youth  seems  to  have  shrunk  with  a  kind  of  dutiful 
horror ;  and  his  excitement  regarding  the  Revolution 
of  1830  soon  subsiding  into  a  calmer  mood,  he  began, 
we  are  told,  to  write  down,  in  the  form  of  an  essay,  a 
series  of  very  Austrian  reflections  on  his  ewn  life,  and 
the  relations  which  he  bore  to  France. 

From  the  very  first,  indeed,  it  had  been  seen  that 
the  young  Napoleon  could  not  live  long.  Undoubted 
symptoms  of  the  presence  in  his  constitution  of  the 
seeds  of  that  malady  that  had  carried  off  his  father, 
early  presented  themselves  ;  and  to  these  were  added 
other  symptoms,  too  clearly  marking  him  out  as  the 
prey  of  consumption.  From  being  a  handsome,  deli¬ 
cate  boy,  he  had  suddenly  shot  up,  before  his  eight¬ 
eenth  year,  into  a  tall,  feeble,  and  sickly,  though  still 
handsome  young  man,  the  constant  care  of  the  imperial 


314 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


physicians.  Toward  the  end  of  the  year  1831,  be 
became  rapidly  worse,  and  was  obliged  to  abstain  from 
his  military  exercises,  and  from  all  active  exertion 
whatever.  During  the  winter  of  that  year,  and  the 
spring  of  1832,  he  lived  at  Schonbrunn,  almost  wholly 
confined  to  his  ehamber.  It  had  been  resolved  to 
remove  him  to  Naples,  should  it  be  possible  to  do  so, 
in  the  autumn  of  1832 ;  but  the  disease  made  such 
progress,  that  before  that  time  the  fatal  result  had 
taken  place.  For  many  weeks  he  had  been  in  great 
pain,  and  incapable  of  any  change  of  position,  save 
that  of  being  wheeled  to  a  window-balconv  overlook- 
ing  the  gardens  of  Schonbrunn.  Even  this  was  at  last 
beyond  his  strength ;  and,  stretched  on  his  bed  in 
great  suffering,  he  waited  anxiously  for  his  release. 
Maria  Louisa  arrived  from  Italy  only  in  time  to  see 
him  die.  It  was  on  the  22d  of  July,  1832,  that  he 
breathed  his  last.  Some  days  after,  there  was  a  funeral 
procession  through  the  streets  of  Vienna,  and  the  body 
of  Napoleon’s  son  was  committed  to  the  imperial  vaults. 

While  the  heir  of  Napoleon  was  thus  living  and 
dying  at  Arienna,  the  other  members  of  the  Bonaparte 
family  were  dispersed  over  the  world,  gazed  at  every 
where  as  the  relics  of  a  grandeur  that  had  passed 
away. 

Joseph,  the  elder  brother  of  Napoleon,  and  through 
life  his  most  intimate  friend,  was  born  in  Corsica, 
January  7,  1768.  He  was,  together  with  Napoleon, 
educated  at  Autun,  where  the  tendency  of  their  res¬ 
pective  tastes  and  character  developed  itself  by  theii 
preference  of,  or  excellence  in,  particular  studies  — 
Joseph,  the  man  of  letters  and  of  peace,  doing  for  his 


JOSEPH  BONAPARTE. 


315 


soldier-brother  his  Latin  and  Greek  verses  ;  while  the 
future  conqueror  studied  Caesar  and  Alexander,  and 
helped  his  brother  in  the  mathematics.  Elected  a 
deputy  from  Ajaccio  to  the  Corsican  Assembly,  in 
1790,  Joseph  ardently  embraced  the  principles  of  the 
Freuch  Revolution,  which  he  cherished  to  his  death. 
He  was,  speculatively,  always  a  friend  of  freedom,  and 
though  the  crown  of  two  nations  had  graced  his  brow, 
and  two  others  tendered  to  him  —  one  in  this  our  new 
world — were  set  aside  by  him,  he  did  not,  in  power 
forget,  so  far  as  he  was  free  to  act,  his  early  pledges. 
His  career  in  France  was  rapid  and  brilliant.  In 
1796,  he  was  the  French  embassador  at  Rome  —  sub¬ 
sequently  a  member  of  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred, 
and  in  1800,  a  counselor  of  state,  in  which  capacity 
he  concluded  a  commercial  treaty  between  France  and 
the  United  States.  He  was  the  plenipotentiary  who 
signed  the  treaty  of  Luneville,  which  gave  peace  to 
the  continent  of  Europe  in  1801  —  and  the  treaty  of 
peace  with  England  at  Amiens  in  1802. 

When  the  empire  arose,  Napoleon  being  without 
male  issue,  Joseph  and  his  brother  Louis,  and  their 
descendants,  were  looked  to  as  the  successors  of  the 
Emperor;  and  then  it  was  that  Napoleon  first  required 
that  Joseph,  so  distinguished  in  civil  and  diplomatic 
life,  should  put  on  the  harness  of  the  soldier.  He 
insisted  that  one  to  whom  the  succession  might  fall, 
should  be  versed  in  military,  as  well  as  in  civil  conduct, 
and  accordingly,  Joseph  became  colonel  of  a  regiment 
in  the  famous  camp  of  Boulogne. 

While  there,  the  crown  of  Lombardy  was  offered  to 
him,  but  he  refused  it  because  the  Emperor  made  it  a 


316 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


condition  of  acceptance,  that  he  should  renounce  his 
claim  to  the  succession  of  the  empire,  and  moreover 
that  he  should  pay  an  annual  tribute  to  France. 

In  1806,  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  40,000  men,  he 
was  commissioned  to  overthrow  the  English  and  Rus¬ 
sian  domination  in  Naples,  and  the  throne  of  Queen 
Caroline.  He  easily  and  rapidly  effected  the  conquest, 
and  his  own  brow  bore  the  crown  which  he  had  con¬ 
quered.  His  brief  reign  of  two  years  was  a  succession 
of  benefits  to  a  people  who  had  been  long  degraded 
by  a  most  oppressive  despotism.  He  founded  civil 
and  military  schools,  some  of  which  yet  exist  —  over¬ 
threw  feudal  privileges — suppressed  the  convents  — 
opened  new  roads  —  caused  the  paupers  of  Naples  to 
work  and  be  paid — drained  marshes — and  every¬ 
where  animated  with  new  life  and  hope  a  people  long 
sunk  in  abject  servitude.  Joseph  was  here  in  his  ele¬ 
ment,  for  he  loved  to  do  good. 

From  these  scenes,  so  congenial  to  him,  he  was 
called  by  the  Emperor  in  1808,  to  Bayonne,  and  there 
the  crown  of  Spain  was  forced  upon  him.  In  this  new 
sphere  he  strove  to  adhere  to  his  previous  course,  and 
by  mildness  and  persuasion  and  benefits  conferred,  to 
conciliate  the  affection  of  Spain.  He  even  besought 
the  Emperor  to  withdraw  all  the  French  troops,  trust¬ 
ing  by  frank  and  loyal  conduct  toward  the  Spaniards, 
to  obtain  their  confidence  and  support.  His  request 
was  not  acceded  to,  and  the  hatred  and  jealousy  of 
foreigners,  which  mark  the  Spanish  character,  exasper¬ 
ated  by  the  clergy  and  encouraged  by  the  presence  of 
a  large  English  army,  rendered  all  Joseph’s  efforts  for 
a  peaceful  success,  such  as  he  had  accomplished  in 


JOSEPH  BONAPARTE. 


317 


Naples,  impossible.  lie  was  obliged  to  be  the  soldier, 
and  although  worsted  in  the  event,  he  gave  in  the  vari¬ 
ous  battle-fields  where  he  was  present,  decisive  indica¬ 
tions  of  courage  and  conduct.  Wearied  with  a  fruitless 
struggle  which  promised  no  opportunity  for  the  exer¬ 
cise  of  the  kindly  plans  he  alone  desired  to  carry  out 
in  his  new  kingdom,  he  wrote  to  the  Emperor  on  the 
23d  of  March,  1S12,  from  Madrid,  earnestly  asking 
permission  to  resign  the  crown  that  four  years  before 
had  been  imposed  upon  him.  In  that  letter  he  says : 
“I  have  done  no  good  and  have  no  hope  of  doing  any. 
In  accepting  the  crown  I  had  no  other  object  in  view 
than  the  promotion  of  the  happiness  of  this  great  mon¬ 
archy.  It  has  not  been  in  my  power  to  accomplish  it. 
I  therefore  ask  to  be  received  by  your  majesty  as  a 
simple  subject.”  Permission  was  refused,  but  the  for¬ 
tune  of  war  drove  Joseph  from  his  crown  and  king¬ 
dom,  and  he  was  once  more  in  France.  The  reverses 
of  1813-1-1,  had  overtaken  French  triumphs ;  the 
capital  was  menaced  ;  Napoleon,  with  the  fragment  of 
his  victorious  armies,  was  maneuvering  between  the 
Marne  and  the  Seine,  with  the  hope  of  covering  Paris  — 
but  the  overwhelming  number  of  the  adversary  ren¬ 
dered  success  hopeless.  From  Rheims,  on  the  16th  of 
March,  1811,  he  wrote  to  Joseph,  to  whom,  on  leaving 
Paris,  he  confided  the  defense  of  the  capital,  and  the 
care  of  the  Empress  and  her  son  —  recalling  to  him 
and  renewing  his  verbal  instruction  not  to  permit 
either  Maria  Louisa  or  the  King  of  Rome  to  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy.  In  this  letter  he  says  em¬ 
phatically,  “  Quit  not  my  son,  and  remember,  I  would 
rather  know  him  to  be  in  the  Seine,  than  in  the  hands 


318 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  niS  TIMES. 


of  the  enemies  of  France.  The  fortune  of  Astyanax, 
prisoner  of  the  Greeks,  has  always  appeared  to  me  the 
most  melancholy  fortune  recorded  in  history.” 

After  the  abdication  of  Napoleon,  Joseph  retired  to 
Lausanne.  Soon  the  events  of  the  hundred  days  found 
him  again  in  Paris,  and  again  deeply  trusted  by  his 
brother.  With  the  final  downfall  of  Napoleon,  Joseph’s 
public  career  terminated.  He  came  to  the  United 
States  and  established  himself  at  Bordentown,  on  the 
Delaware,  living  the  life  of  a  gentleman  of  accom¬ 
plished  education,  refined  taste,  and  liberal  hospitality. 
Here,  under  the  title  of  Count  of  Survilliers,  he  con¬ 
tinued  to  reside  for  many  years.  While  Napoleon 
lived,  he  still  hoped  —  after  he  died,  and  while  his  son 
still  lived,  yet  did  he  continue  to  hope  —  and  when  the 
Revolution  of  1830  burst  forth  in  Paris,  he  addressed 
from  New  York  an  eloquent  protest  to  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies,  against  their  assuming  to  place  on  the  throne, 
without  consulting  the  nation,  any  other  family  than 
that  of  Bonaparte.  “Napoleon,  (said  he,)  was  called 
to  the  throne  by  three  millions  five  hundred  thousand 
votes ;  if  the  nation  thinks  right  to  make  another 
choice,  it  has  the  right,  but  it  alone.  Napoleon  II. 
was  proclaimed  by  the  Chambers  in  1815,  which  re¬ 
cognized  in  him  a  right  conferred  by  the  nation.  I 
accept  for  him  all  the  modifications  discussed  by  that 
Chamber,  which  was  rudely  dissolved  by  foreign  bay¬ 
onets.”  The  protest  was  unheeded.  The  younger 
branch  of  the  Bourbons  was  placed  on  the  throne;  and 
still,  as  under  the  older  branch,  the  name  and  family 
of  Bonaparte  were  proscribed  from  the  soil  of  France. 

Abandoning,  thenceforth,  not  his  interest  for  the 


JOSEPH  BONAPARTE. 


SI  9 


honor  and  welfare  of  France,  but  all  expectation  of 
being  permitted  to  contribute  thereto  himself,  he  passed 
his  days  in  tranquillity  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware. 
It  was  in  this  retirement  that  a  deputation  of  leading 
men  from  Mexico  sought  him  out,  and  tendered  to 
him  a  crown  in  the  new  world,  which,  without  hesita¬ 
tion,  he  put  aside.  The  former  King  of  Naples  and 
of  Spain,  replied  as  follows  to  the  deputation  which 
offered  him  the  crown  of  Mexico  :  “I  have  worn  two 
crowns;  I  would  not,  take  a  step  to  wear  a  third. 
Nothing  can  gratify  me  more  than  to  see  men  who 
would  not  recognize  my  authority  when  I  was  at 
Madrid,  now  come  to  seek  me  in  exile,  that  I  may  be 
at  their  head  ;  but  I  do  not  think  that  the  throne  you 
wish  to  raise  again  can  make  your  happiness  ;  every 
day  that  I  pass  in  the  hospitable  land  of  the  United 
States,  proves  more  clearly  to  me  the  excellence  of 
republican  institutions  for  America.  Keep  them,  then, 
as  a  precious  gift  from  heaven ;  settle  your  internal 
commotions;  follow  the  example  of  the  United  States; 
and  seek  among  your  fellow-citizens  for  a  man  more 
capable  than  I  am  of  acting  the  great  part  of  Wash¬ 
ington.”  In  1839,  family  affairs  required  his  presence 
in  Europe.  In  1810,  an  attack  of  apoplexy  smote  his 
previously  vigorous  health  and  fine  faculties ;  and  lan¬ 
guishing  from  the  effects  of  that,  and  finally  permitted, 

“  An  old  man,  broken  by  the  storms  of  state,” 

to  visit  Florence,  in  the  hope  of  benefit  from  its  genial 
climate,  he  there  breathed  his  last  —  with  his  latest 
breath  invoking  blessings  on  that  country  which  had 
rewarded  his  services  with  twenty-nine  years  of  exile. 

In  the  United  States,  Joseph  was  known  only  by  his 


320 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


benefactions.  Of  most  amiable  and  courteous  man¬ 
ners,  with  admirable  conversational  powers,  which  lie 
was  fond  of  indulging  —  and  without  any  of  the  pre¬ 
tensions  with  which  his  career  might  have  inspired  a 
mind  less  evenly  balanced,  —  he  moved  among  the 
people  a  well-bred  gentleman,  a  kind  and  generous 
neighbor,  a  most  agreeable  and  instructive  companion; 
a  man  of  head  and  heart  unspoiled  by  the  loftiest 
honors  of  the  world,  and  unsoured  by  its  reverses. 

Joseph  Bonaparte  had  two  daughters:  the  elder, 
Zenaide,  was  married  to  her  cousin,  Charles  Bona¬ 
parte,  son  of  Lucien ;  the  younger,  Charlotte,  was 
married  to  her  cousin,  Napoleon  Louis,  son  of  Louis 
Bonaparte  and  Ilortense.  Her  husband  died  March 
17,  1831. 

Lucien,  Napoleon’s  second  brother,  was  born  in 
1775.  The  effective  assistance  which-he  rendered  to 
Napoleon  on  some  of  the  most  important  occasions  in 
the  earlier  period  of  his  career,  and  the  misunder¬ 
standing  which,  at  a  later  period,  took  place  between 
these  two  brothers,  render  Lucien  an  object  of  much 
interest.  The  political  career  of  Lucien  may  be  said 
to  have  commenced  in  1797,  although  he  had  previ¬ 
ously  held  several  important  civil  and  military  ap¬ 
pointments.  Although  he  had  not  completed  his 
twenty-third  year,  he  had  so  distinguished  himself  as 
to  be  nominated  a  member  of  the  Council  of  Five  Hun¬ 
dred  by  the  electors  of  the  Liamone,  his  native  depart¬ 
ment.  His  first  appearance  in  the  tribune  was  in  July, 
1798.  At  that  time  the  revolutionary  party,  in  its  war¬ 
fare  upon  Christianity,  was  endeavoring  to  abolish  the 
Sabbath,  and  a  law  was  proposed  to  compel  tradesmen 


EUCIEN  BONAPARTE. 


321 


to  keep  open  their  shops  except  on  every  tenth  day. 
Upon  this  occasion  Lucien  advocated  the  cause  of 
Christianity.  “Tolerance,  (said  lie,)  is  the  sister  of 
liberty ;  persecution  the  daughter  of  tyranny.  What 
right  have  we  to  prevent  a  citizen  from  celebrating 
any  day  which  may  be  indicated  by  his  profession  of 
faith?  At  Rome,  an  Israelite  is  not  forced  to  work  on 
a  Saturday  ;  and  shall  we,  the  representatives  of  a  free 
people,  afford  less  scope  for  the  unshackled  exercise  of 
religion  than  the  sovereign  pontiff?” 

When,  in  September,  1790,  the  debates  took  place 
on  the  motion  of  General  Jourdan,  for  declaring  the 
country  in  danger,  Lucien  opposed  it  with  much  talent 
and  ingenuity.  He  declared,  that  the  only  mode  of 
surmounting  the  crisis  was,  by  intrusting  a  great  ex¬ 
tent  of  power  to  the  executive  authority.  IIe,  how¬ 
ever,  thought  it  his  duty  to  combat  the  idea  of  a 
dictatorship.  “Is  there  one  among  us,  (he  cried,)  who 
would  not  arm  himself  with  the  poniard  of  Brutus,  and 
chastise  the  base  -and  ambitious  enemy  of  his  coun¬ 
try?”  After  this,  Lucien,  on  several  occasions,  distin¬ 
guished  himself  in  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred ;  and 
although  he  had  hitherto  affected  much  republican 
zeal,  he  opposed  the  reviving  influence  of  the  demo¬ 
crats.  Notwithstanding  the  interruption  of  the  com¬ 
munication  between  Toulon  and  Alexandria,  there  is 
little  doubt  that  he  found  means  of  announcing  to  his 
brother  in  Egypt  the  unsatisfactory  state  of  parties  in 
Paris,  and  the  dreadful  disasters  which  had  taken 
place  on  the  frontiers.  In  the  mean  time,  the  eight¬ 
eenth  of  “  Brumaire ”  was  drawing  on,  and  Lucien 

succeeded  in  being  elected  to  the  presidency  of 

14* 


322 


LOUIS  NAFOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


the  Council  of  Five  Hundred  —  a  circumstance  highly 
favorable  to  his  views. 

On  Napoleon’s  return  to  France,  Lucien  presided  at 
all  the  private  meetings  preparatory  to  the  Revolution 
of  Brumaire,  (9th  November,  1799.)  On  that  memora¬ 
ble  day,  when  the  legislative  body  held  the  extraordi¬ 
nary  sitting  at  St.  Cloud,  he  exerted  every  elfort  to 
stay  the  opposition  which  manifested  itself  against  his 
brother;  and  when  Napoleon  entered  unarmed  into 
the  council,  he  firmly  opposed  the  sentence  of  outlawry 
called  for  against  him.  “  Can  you  ask  me,  (he  cried,) 
to  put  the  outlawry  of  my  own  brother  to  the  vote?” 
Finding  this  appeal  to  his  personal  situation  and  feel¬ 
ings  to  make  no  impression  upon  the  Assembly,  he 
flung  on  the  desk  his  hat,  scarf,  and  other  insignia  of 
his  office.  “Let  me  be  rather  heard,  (he  said,)  as  the 
advocate  of  him  whom  you  falsely  and  rashly  accuse.” 
At  this  moment,  a  small  party  of  guards,  sent  by  Na¬ 
poleon  to  his  assistance,  marched  into  the  hall  and 
carried  him  out.  Lucien  mounted  on  horseback,  and 
called  out,  in  a  voice  naturally  deep  and  sonorous, 
“General  Bonaparte,  and  you,  soldiers!  the  president 
of  the  Council  of  Five  LIundred  announces  to  you, 
that  factious  men,  with  daggers,  have  interrupted  the 
deliberations  of  the  Assembly.  He  authorizes  you  to 
employ  force  against  these  disturbers.  The  Assembly 
of  Five  Hundred  is  dissolved.”  De  Bourrienne,  who 
was  present,  tells  us,  that  perceiving  a  slight  hesitation 
on  the  part  of  the  troops,  Lucien,  drawing  his  sword, 
added,  “I  swear  that  I  will  plunge  this  into  the  bosom 
of  my  own  brother,  if  he  should  ever  aim  a  blow  at  the 
liberties  of  France.” 


LUCIEN  BONAPARTE. 


323 


To  Lucien  the  success  of  this  memorable  day  may, 
in  no  inconsiderable  degree,  be  attributed.  The  port¬ 
folio  of  the  minister  of  the  interior  was  the  reward  of 
his  services ;  and  though  he  had  scarcely  attained  his 
twenty -fifth  year,  his  administration  acquired  a  charac¬ 
ter  of  energy  and  elevation  which  commanded  respect. 
By  great  vigilance  and  close  attention  to  certain  mys¬ 
teries  of  office,  he  contrived  to  make  up  for  that  pro¬ 
found  knowledge  which  he  had  not  had  time  to  acquire. 
Ilis  official  duties  were  discharged  with  firmness  and 
activity ;  and  without  any  sacrifice  of  personal  conse¬ 
quence,  he  knew  how  to  assume  the  most  amiable 
suavity  of  manners  toward  individuals  of  all  classes. 
He  was  the  friend  of  public  instruction,  and  the  patron 
of  science  and  the  arts.  While  he  was  minister  of  the 
interior,  Lucien  lost  his  wife,  Christine  Boyer.  She  is 
said  to  have  been  a  woman  of  a  mild  disposition, 
amiable  manners,  and  great  goodness  of  heart.  He 
caused  a  handsome  monument  to  be  erected  to  her 
memory,  on  which  is  the  following  simple  inscrip¬ 
tion  : —  “A  daughter  —  wife  —  and  mother  —  without 
reproach !  ” 

Distinguished  as  were  the  services  which  Lucien  had 
performed  for  the  First  Consul,  the  two  brothers  did 
not  long  continue  on  brotherly  terms.  Lucien  soon 
found  it  necessary  to  resign  his  position  at  the  capital 
and  accept  the  appointment  of  envoy  to  Spain,  where 
he  was  extremely  successful  in  promoting  the  ambi¬ 
tious  views  of  Napoleon.  Upon  his  return  from  this 
mission,  Lucien  took  a  step  which  was  highly  offen¬ 
sive  to  Napoleon,  by  marrying  the  widow  of  an  ex¬ 
change-broker,  named  Juberthou,  who  “for  greater 


324 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


convenience,  (observes  De  Bonrrienne,  significantly,) 
had  been  dispatched  to  the  West  Indies,  where,  in  the 
course  of  a  couple  of  months,  the  yellow  fever  snatched 
him  from  the  cares  of  this  transitory  life.”  This  mar¬ 
riage  was  a  severe  blow  to  the  system  of  Napoleon, 
•who  contemplated  nothing  less  than  royal  alliances  for 
all  the  branches  of  his  family.  When  assured  of  the 
feet  by  the  curate  who  had  performed  the  ceremony  at 
the  Hotel  de  Brienne,  he  fell  into  a  violent  rage,  and 
from  that  moment  determined  never  to  make  Lucien  a 
prince  of  France,  on  account  of  what  he  termed  his 
unequal  match. 

The  old  misunderstanding  was  now  revived  with 
increased  bitterness  ;  and  to  such  lengths  were  matters 
carried,  that  Lucien  formed  a  sort  of  league  against 
his  brother  in  his  own  family.  Directions  were  given, 
that  Napoleon’s  name  should  never  be  mentioned  by 
his  household,  and  the  family  portraits  were  taken 
down  and  consigned  to  the  lumber-room.  The  only 
one  that  escaped  the  proscription,  was  that  of  his 
mother.  He  was  shortly  after  commanded  to  leave 
the  French  territory. 

In  April,  1804,  only  a  few  "weeks  previous  to  the 
change  of  the  government  from  consular  to  imperial, 
Lucien  quitted  Paris.  The  conjuncture  was,  in  one 
respect,  favorable  to  his  reputation ;  since  it  created  a 
general  impression,  that  the  cause  of  his  disgrace  was 
his  opposition  to  his  brother’s  ambitious  policy  —  an 
impression  which  Lucien,  of  course,  was  not  very 
anxious  to  weaken.  He  proceeded  to  Milan;  but,  on 
Napoleon’s  arriving  there,  to  place  on  his  brow  the 
iron  crown  of  Lombardy,  he  removed  to  Pesaro  ;  and, 


LUCIEN  BONAPARTE. 


325 


in  1805,  to  Home,  where  the  pope  treated  him  with 
marked  attention  and  kindness. 

After  the  treaty  of  Tilsit,  in  June,  1807,  an  attempt 
was  made  by  Joseph  to  reconcile  the  brothers.  An 
interview  was  arranged  at  Mantua,  but  no  accommo¬ 
dation  resulted  therefrom.  Lucien  was  willing  to  com¬ 
ply  with  certain  conditions  proposed  by  the  Emperor, 
among  which  was  the  marriage  of  his  daughter  to  the 
prince  of  the  Asturias;  but,  to  his  great  honor,  he  re¬ 
fused  to  repudiate  his  wife.  “Separate  from  her,  (said 
Napoleon,)  for  a  time,  and  we  shall  see  what  can  be 
done.”  “Not  for  an  hour!”  rejoined  Lucien. 

When,  in  the  early  part  of  1808,  Napoleon  resolved 
upon  dethroning  the  Spanish  Bourbons,  it  was  his  wish 
to  have  madeXucien  king  of  Spain  ;  but  Lucien,  who 
had  so  recently  resided  in  Spain,  and  knew  the  Spanish 
character,  and  who  was  at  this  time  living  at  Rome, 
happy  in  his  family  and  in  his  pursuits,  declined,  with¬ 
out  hesitation,  the  proffered  elevation.  In  the  follow¬ 
ing  April,  while  at  his  country-seat,  near  Frascati,  (the 
same  that  belonged  to  Cicero,)  and  to  which  Lucien  had 
restored  its  original  name  of  Tusculum,  he  received  a 
letter  from  his  brother  Joseph,  then  king  of  Naples, 
recommending  him  to  leave  the  papal  territories  with¬ 
out  delay,  as  they  no  longer  afforded  him  an  asylum. 
He  retired  to  an  estate  which  he  had  recently  pur¬ 
chased  at  Canino  twenty-five  leagues  from  the  capital. 
Here  all  his  attention  seemed  directed  to  agricultural 
and  rural  pursuits,  for  which  he  had  always  manifested 
much  fondness.  Dressed  in  a  coarse  woollen  coat  and 
thick  shoes,  he  would  pass  whole  days  in  superintend¬ 
ing  the  laborers.  He  established  foundries  and  iron 


32G 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  II IS  TIMES. 


works,  and  the  whole  country  assumed  new  life  and 
vigor.  While  Lucien  was  thus  laudably  occupied,  far 
other  objects  engrossed  the  attention  of  his  imperial 
brother.  In  May,  1S09,  he  issued  his  first  decree,  de¬ 
claring  the  temporal  sovereignty  of  the  pope  to  be  at 
an  end,  and  incorporating  Rome  with  the  French  em¬ 
pire.  Lucien,  now  considering  himself  no  longer  safe 
in  the  papal  dominions,  left  Canino,  on  the  1st  of 
August,  1810,  intending  to  proceed  to  the  United 
States.  But  the  vessel  in  which  he  embarked  was  cap¬ 
tured  by  the  British  cruisers,  and  he  was  sent  to  Eng¬ 
land.  There  he  occupied  his  time  in  writing  an  epic 
poem  on  the  subject  of  Charlemagne.  Ilis  ambition 
seemed  now  to  be  confined  to  the  attainment  of  a  dis¬ 
tinguished  rank  in  literature,  and  to  be  numbered 
among  the  eminent  poets  of  France. 

Restored  to  personal  liberty  by  the  peace  of  Paris, 
in  1814,  Lucien  returned  to  Italy’",  where  the  pope  con¬ 
ferred  on  him  the  dignity  of  a  Roman  prince,  with  the 
title  of  Prince  of  Canino.  Thus  it  would  appear  that 
Lucien’s  fortune  had  acquired  fresh  strength  by  the 
recent  events,  gaining  in  stability  what  it  might  have 
lost  in  grandeur ;  while  that  of  Napoleon,  lately  so 
gigantic,  was  now  limited  to  the  possession  of  a  little 
island,  scarcely  acknowledged  as  a  part  of  that  empire 
which  he  had  shaken  to  its  foundation.  This  astound¬ 
ing  reverse  sensibly  affected  Lucien.  He  tendered  his 
brother  his  fortune  and  his  services ;  and  while  the 
tatter  was  at  Elba,  a  full  reconciliation  was  effected, 
through  the  mediation  of  their  mother  and  their  sister 
Pauline. 

In  1815,  as  soon  as  Lucien  had  heard  of  Napoleon’s 


I.UCIT'.N  BONAPARTE. 


327 


escape  from  Elba,  he  wrote  him  a  letter  of  congratula¬ 
tion.  “Your  return,  (he  said,)  fills  up  the  measure  of 
your  military  glory  ;  but  there  is  another  glory  still 
greater  —  civil  glory.  The  sentiments  and  intentions 
which  you  have  solemnly  promulgated  promise  France 
that  you  know  how  to  acquire  it.”  When  Napoleon, 
apparently  paralyzed  by  the  unexpected  reverses  at 
Waterloo,  betrayed  symptoms  of  irresolution,  Lucien 
did  all  he  could  to  reanimate  his  drooping  spirits. 
“You  give  up  the  game,  (he  said,)  without  having  lost 
it.  The  death  of  thirty  thousand  men  cannot  decide 
the  fate  of  France.”  Finding  his  brother  still  unde¬ 
termined,  he  remarked  to  his  secretary,  that  “The 
6moke  of  Waterloo  had  turned  his  brain.” 

The  second  abdication  obliged  Lucien  to  retire  to 
his  sister  Pauline’s  chateau  at  Neuilly,  where  he  pre¬ 
pared  to  leave  France.  While  Napoleon  was  at  St. 
Helena,  Lucien’s  mind  and  heart  were  incessantly  di¬ 
rected  to  that  spot.  He  applied  to  the  British  govern¬ 
ment  to  be  allowed  to  proceed  thither,  and  to  reside 
there  two  years,  with  or  without  his  wife  and  children; 
engaging  not  to  occasion  any  augmentation  of  expense, 
and  promising  to  submit  to  every  restriction  imposed 
on  his  brother,  or  that  might  be  imposed  upon  himself, 
but  his  application  was  peremptorily  denied.  During 
the  remainder  of  his  life,  Lucien  Bonaparte  was  heard 
of  merely  as  a  Roman  nobleman  of  taste ;  at  once  a 
patron  of  literature  and  an  aspirant  for  literary  honors. 
His  great  epic  of  “Charlemagne,”  on  which  he  spent 
many  years,  was  published  in  two  ponderous  quartos, 
but  failed  to  procure  him  the  laurels  he  coveted. 
His  principal  literary  attempts,  in  addition  to  the 


32S 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


“Charlemagne,”  were  a  poem  on  Corsican  history, 
called  “Cyrneide;”  a  defense  of  Napoleon;  and  a 
volume  of  his  own  memoirs. 

During  the  last  ten  or  twelve  years  of  his  life,  he 
found  a  new  and  congenial  occupation  in  the  collection 
of  Etruscan  remains.  The  estate  of  Canino  being  a 
portion  of  the  extensive  tract  of  country  that  the  Etrus¬ 
cans  had  once  occupied  in  Italy,  it  might  have  been 
anticipated  that  it  would  be  found  to  contain  ancient 
tombs,  such  as  had  been  already  discovered  in  other 
parts  of  the  Roman  States,  near  the  known  sites  of 
pristine  Etruscan  cities.  It  was  not,  however,  till  the 
year  1828,  that,  in  consequence  of  the  accidental  ex¬ 
posure  of  one  such  tomb  in  a  field,  systematic  excava¬ 
tions  were  commenced  on  the  estate,  with  a  view  to 
exhaust  it  of  its  Etruscan  antiquities.  From  that  time 
forward  the  prince,  and  in  his  absence,  the  princess, 
zealously  prosecuted  the  work,  employing  workmen 
to  dig  continually  in  various  parts  of  the  estate  ;  and 
the  result  was  the  accumulation  at  Canino  of  a  vast 
number  of  vases,  bronzes,  and  other  relics,  forming  a 
museum  of  Etruscan  antiquities,  superior,  in  some 
respects,  to  any  that  existed  in  Italy.  The  name  of 
the  Prince  of  Canino  became  known  in  all  the  anti¬ 
quarian  circles  of  Europe ;  travelers  in  Italy  used  to 
visit  his  museum ;  and  at  one  or  two  balls  in  Rome, 
the  princess  created  quite  a  sensation  by  appearing  in 
a  magnificent  set  of  ornaments  that  had  been  taken 
from  the  ancient  tombs  on  her  husband’s  estate. 

Dying  at  Viterbo,  in  June,  1810,  at  the  age  of  sixty- 
five,  the  Prince  -of  Canino  left  a  numerous  family  of 
children,  of  various  ages.  Two  daughters,  the  issue 


LOUIS  BONAPARTE. 


329 


of  his  first  marriage,  had  been  married,  the  one  to  an 
Italian,  the  prince  Gabrielli ;  the  other,  first  to  a  Swed¬ 
ish  count,  and  afterward,  in  1824,  to  an  Englishman, 
Lord  Dudley  Stuart.  Of  his  children  by  the  second 
marriage,  there  survived  four  sons  and  four  daughters. 
One  of  the  daughters,  Laetitia,  born  in  1804,  became 
the  wife  of  an  Irish  gentlemanf  and  member  of  Parlia¬ 
ment,  Mr.  Thomas  Wyse.  The  sons,  all  of  whom  are 
still  alive,  have  distinguished  themselves  in  various 
ways.  The  eldest,  Charles  Lucien,  styled  until  his 
father’s  death,  Prince  de  Musignano,  and  afterward 
Prince  of  Canino  and  Musignano,  was  born  in  1803, 
and  married,  in  1822,  his  cousin  Charlotte,  one  of  the 
daughters  whom  Joseph  Bonaparte  had  left  in  Eu¬ 
rope.  Selecting  a  path  that  had  not  yet  been  trodden 
by  any  member  of  his  versatile  family,  he  devoted 
himself  from  the  first  to  natural  history,  in  which 
science  he  soon  attained  eminence.  Crossing  the 
Atlantic  after  his  marriage,  on  a  visit  to  his  father-in- 
law,  he  took  the  opportunity  of  making  himself  ac¬ 
quainted  with  the  ornithology  of  America  ;  and  was 
able,  after  a  year  or  two,  to  produce  as  the  result  of 
his  rifle-practice,  many  new  birds  not  figured  by  his 
predecessor,  Wilson.  Devoting  himself  with  similar 
assiduity,  after  his  return,  to  the  zoological  illustration 
of  Italy,  he  gave  to  the  world  in  1841,  a  magnifi¬ 
cent  work  in  three  folio  volumes,  containing,  under 
the  name  of  “  Iconografia  della  Fauna  Italica,”  per¬ 
haps  the  most  detailed  and  elaborate  account  of  the 
animals  of  the  Peninsula,  that  has  yet  been  attempted. 

Louis,  the  third  brother  of  Napoleon,  was  born 
September  2,  1778.  When,  in  1794,  Napoleon  joined 


330 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


the  army  of  Italy,  Louis  accompanied  him,  and,  al¬ 
though  but  little  more  than  fifteen  years  of  age,  evinced 
the  coolness  and  courage  of  a  veteran.  The  first  time 
he  was  led  into  an  engagement,  Louis,  far  from  be¬ 
traying  any  astonishment,  was  anxious  to  serve  as  a 
rampart  to  his  brother. 

While  the  enemy  were  keeping  up  a  brisk  fire  of 
artillery,  Louis  placed  himself  before  Napoleon,  as  he 
proceeded  along  the  outside  of  the  intrenchments,  for 
the  purpose  of  examining  them ;  and  in  this  position 
he  continued  during  the  whole  of  the  inspection.  On 
another  occasion,  being  in  a  battery,  against  which 
the  enemy  kept  up  a  well-directed  fire,  he  remained 
always  standing  with  his  head  erect,  although  the 
gunners  were  taking  all  possible  pains  to  shelter 
themselves  from  the  enemy.  Napoleon  asked  him  the 
reason;  he  answered:  “You  have  told  me,  that  an 
artillery  officer  should  never  be  afraid  of  cannon. 
They  are  our  arms  —  I  follow  your  example.”  Louis 
was  little  more  than  seventeen  when  he  a  second  time 
joined  the  army  of  Italy,  then  commanded  by  his 
brother ;  to  whom,  though  he  had  only  the  rank  of 
lieutenant,  he  was  appointed  aid-de-camp.  At  this 
early  stage  of  his  career,  he  was  an  observant  and 
silent  character.  He  felt,  he  remarks,  a  vacuity  of 
heart  and  a  sentiment  of  deep  regret,  at  seeing  himself 
impelled  into  a  career  of  troublesome  ambition.  He 
already  sighed  for  retirement  and  a  peaceful  occupa¬ 
tion.  He  was  in  nearly  all  the  battles  in  Italy,  dis¬ 
charging  all  the  duties  of  his  station  with  scrupulous 
exactitude  ;  but  he  had  no  ambition  for  military  dis¬ 
tinction.  At  the  memorable  battle  of  Areola,  which 


LOUIS  BONAPARTE. 


331 


lasted  three  days,  he  was  frequently  exposed,  during 
the  hottest  period  of  the  attack,  to  imminent  peril.  The 
brave  Lannes  fell  wounded  by  his  side ;  and  Na¬ 
poleon’s  horse  having  sunk  with  him  in  a  morass, 
Louis  succeeded  in  getting  hold  of  one  of  his  brother’s 
bands;  but  not  being  sufficiently  strong,  he  was  drawn 
along  with  him,  and  both  must  have  perished,  had  not 
JVIarmont,  with  two  subalterns,  extricated  them  from 
their  perilous  situation.  This  took  place  on  the  first 
day.  On  the  second,  Louis  was  charged  with  impor¬ 
tant  orders  from  the  general-in-chief  to  General  Rob¬ 
ert,  and  being  the  only  person  on  horseback,  he  was 
marked  out  by  the  enemy,  and  exposed  for  a  long 
time  to  their  fire.  On  regaining  his  brother,  Napoleon 
expressed  a  feeling  of  surprise  and  joy  at  seeing 
him:  “I  believed  you  dead,”  said  he;  and  his  death 
had  been  actually  announced  to  him  by  some  of  the 
grenadiers. 

Louis  accompanied  his  brother  to  Egypt,  in  1778, 
and  was  from  that  time  usually  with  the  army  until 
the  year  1806  —  his  unhappy  marriage  with  Ilortense, 
in  1802,  causing  him  to  remain  more  constantly  with 
his  regiment  than  was  otherwise  necessary.  In  1806, 
Holland,  exhausted  by  dissensions  and  internal  strug¬ 
gles,  threw  itself  into  the  arms  of  France,  and  asked 
for  a  prince  from  the  family  of  Napoleon,  who  might 
preside  over  its  destinies.  Embassadors  from  the 
Dutch  people  came  to  offer  the  throne  of  Holland  to 
Louie;  “We  come,”  said  they,  “of  our  own  free  ac¬ 
cord,  supported  by  the  suffrages  of  nine-tenths  of  our 
fellow-citizens,  to  entreat  you  to  join  your  fate  with 
ours,  and  save  a  whole  people  from  the  dangers  which 


332 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


threaten  them.”  Louis  was  really  unwilling  to  accept 
the  proffered  honor,  but  founded  his  objection  on  the 
ground  that  the  climate  was  unfavorable  to  his  health. 
“Better  to  die  as  a  king  than  live  as  a  prince,”  was 
the  characteristic  reply  of  Napoleon.  On  the  5th  of 
June,  1806,  Louis  was  proclaimed  king  of  Holland, 
and  set  out  in  hopes  of  finding,  in  his  solicitude  for  the 
public  interests  and  in  the  labors  of  administration, 
exemption  from  the  melancholy,  which  slowly  under¬ 
mined  his  constitution.  Faithful,  above  all,  in  his 
immovable  attachment  to  duty,  he  devoted  himself 
entirely  to  the  well-being  of  the  country,  which  Provi¬ 
dence  had  committed  to  his  charge ;  and  when  cir¬ 
cumstances  placed  him  in  a  situation  in  which  he  was 
obliged  to  choose  between  his  duties  as  a  king  and  his 
affection  to  his  family,  he  never  hesitated  to  range 
himself  on  the  side  of  duty.  He  gave  himself  up  with 
enthusiasm  to  the  hope  of  being  useful  to  two  millions 
of  men,  and  resolved  to  devote  himself  to  their  happi¬ 
ness.  Lie  remained  a  week  in  St.  Leu,  and  during 
that  time  endeavored  to  gain  from  the  deputation  a 
general  notion  of  the  state  of  the  country  over  which 
he  was  about  to  rule.  Finding  its  treasury  empty, 
and  that  France  owed  it  $1,000,000,  lent  to  the  French 
governors  of  the  colonies  in  the  East  Indies,  he  de¬ 
manded  of  the  Emperor  the  repayment  of  it,  but 
without  success.  On  reaching  his  capital  his  first  care 
was  to  form  a  ministry.  He  inquired  into  the  integ¬ 
rity  and  merit  of  individuals,  and  on  these  he  founded 
hie  confidence.  To  the  several  addresses  presented  to 
him,  he  replied,  “  that  from  the  moment  he  set  foot  on 
the  soil,  he  had  become  a  Dutchman.”  He  promised 


Louis  Bonaparte. 


333 


to  protect  justice,  as  he  would  protect  commerce,  by 
throwing  the  access  to  it  open,  and  removing  every 
thing  that  might  impede  it.  “With  me,  (he  said,) 
there  shall  be  no  different  religions  —  no  different  par¬ 
ties  ;  merit  and  service  shall  form  the  sole  ground  of 
distinction.” 

The  necessities  of  his  treasury  demanding  immediate 
attention,  he  dispatched  an  individual  to  Paris,  to  in¬ 
form  his  brother  that  unless  he  liquidated  the  debt  due 
to  Holland,  took  the  French  troops  into  his  own  pay, 
and  lessened  the  naval  force,  he  would  instantly  abdi¬ 
cate  ;  meantime,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he 
gave  directions  for  such  reductions  of  expenditure  as 
it  was  in  his  power  to  make. 

He  soon  perceived  that  the  government  of  Holland 
must  found  its  chief  support  on  public  opinion.  He 
5et  about  drawing  up  in  silence,  the  plan  of  a  constitu¬ 
tion,  of  the  most  simple  description,  alike  suited  to  the 
tastes  and  habits  of  his  subjects ;  and  he  took  steps 
for  obtaining  a  uniform  civil  and  criminal  code,  which 
should  unite  the  principles  of  justice  with  those  of 
humanity.  He  also  appointed  two  committees,  com¬ 
posed  of  the  ablest  professors  and  men  of  letters,  to 
:lraw  up  a  uniform  system  of  weights  and  measures ; 
md  though  the  good  he  thus  intended  was  not  at- 
hined  during  his  reign,  it  has  since  been  carried  into 
complete  effect.  Besides  these,  Louis  projected  sundry 
imeliorations  connected  with  the  health  of  his  subjects 
md  the  salubrity  of  the  country.  lie  enlarged  the 
oublic  libraries,  encouraged  the  fine  arts,  founded  a 
aeneral  Institution  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  and  created 
;he  order  of  Union  and  Merit,  selecting  for  its  device 


3 34  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

the  Dutch  maxim,  “Doe  wel  en  zie  niet  om” — “Do 
what  you  ought,  happen  what  may.” 

In  January,  1807,  a  shock  like  that  of  an  earthquake 
wag  felt  at  the  Hague,  and  a  light  in  the  horizon  an¬ 
nounced  a  terrible  fire  in  the  direction  of  Leyden. 
Louis  happened  to  be  on*his  way  thither,  when  he  was 
informed  that  a  vessel  laden  with  gunpowder  had 
blown  up  in  the  center  of  the  city.  On  his  arrival,  he 
was  horror-struck  at  the  spectacle  that  presented  itself. 
Eight  hundred  houses  had  been  leveled  with  the 
ground  ;  and  with  their  fall,  numerous  families,  while 
enjoying  the  repast  of  dinner,  were  precipitated  into 
eternity"  —  fathers,  mothers,  children,  and  domestics, 
all  were  hurried  to  a  promiscuous  grave.  Every  win¬ 
dow  in  the  place  was  dashed  to  atoms,  and  thus  the 
bread,  flour,  and  other  necessaries  of  life  were  rendered 
dangerous  and  useless,  by  the  showers  of  powdered 
glass  that  fell  in  all  directions. 

Attended  by  the  magistrates*  Louis  traversed  the 
scene  of  desolation.  He  ascended  the  ruins,  mixed 
with  the  laborers,  visited  the  wounded,  promised  a 
reward  to  every  one  who  succeeded  in  rescuing  a 
fellow-creature  from  beneath  the  rubbish,  and  did  not 
quit  the  spot  till  daybreak  of  the  following  morning. 
He  sent  off  to  the  principal  towns  for  succors  of  all 
kinds,  and  ordered  his  palace  in  the  wood,  between 
Leyden  and  the  Hague,  to  be  thrown  open  to  those 
respectable  families  whom  the  accident  had  left  house¬ 
less.  On  afterward  receiving  the  thanks  of  the  magis¬ 
trates,  he  returned  a  most  benignant  answer.  “The 
dead,”  said  he,  “I  cannot  restore  to  you  ;  that  is  above 
human  power ;  but  all  that  I  can  I  will  do  for  your 


LOUIS  BONAPAKTE. 


335 


city.”  Louis  kept  his  word.  lie  proposed  to  the 
legislative  body  the  measures  necessary  for  its  restora¬ 
tion  ;  directed  a  general  subscription  to  be  set  on  foot, 
which  was  so  productive,  that  the  inhabitants  were 
indemnified  for  their  pecuniary  losses ;  and  decreed 
that  Leyden  should  become  the  seat  of  the  Eoyal 
University. 

Again,  1809,  when  a  sudden  inundation  spread 
desolation  over  several  districts,  Louis  was  on  the  spot, 
performing  the  same  beneficent  ofiices.  He  traversed 
the  whole  of  it  during  two  days  and  a  night,  visited 
every  village,  consoled  and  encouraged  the  inhabit¬ 
ants,  and  promptly  rewarded  those  who  most  exposed 
themselves  to  danger. 

At  the  close  of  1806,  the  famous  Berlin  decree  was 
enacted,  prohibiting  all  intercourse  with  England,  and 
Louis  was  required  to  enforce  it  in  Holland.  He 
could  not  avoid  taking  some  analogous  steps,  but 
he  would  not  re-enact  the  decree.  On  complaints 
being  made,  that  a  contraband  traffic  was  carrying 
on,  Louis  coolly  replied,  “ Empechez  done  la  peau  de 
transpirer!”  —  “You  might  as  well  forbid  the  skin  to 
perspire!” 

When  Napoleon  was  making  arrangements  to  take 
possession  of  Spain,  he  conceived  the  design  of  trans¬ 
ferring  Louis  to  the  throne  of  that  country.  He  ac¬ 
cordingly  addressed  a  letter  to  him,  in  March,  1808, 
in  which  he  opened  his  plan,  intimating,  among  other 
things,  that  the  climate  of  Holland  was  unfavorable 
to  his  health.  “Tell  me  categorically,”  he  said,  “if 
I  make  you  king  of  Spain,  will  you  agree  to  it? 
answer  me  —  yes  or  no."  The  surprise  of  Louis,  on 


336 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


receiving  so  impolitic,  unjust,  and  shameful  a  proposi¬ 
tion,  was  only  equaled  by  his  indignation:  —  “I  am 
not  the  governor  of  a  province,”  he  said:  ‘"for  a  king 
there,  is  no  promotion  but  to  heaven  ;  they  are  all 
equal ;  with  what  face  can  I  demand  an  oath  of 
fidelity  from  another  people,  if  I  am  unfaithful  to  that 
which  I  have  taken  to  the  Dutch?”  His  answer  was 
a  direct  refusal ;  and  the  throne  of  Spain  was  given  to 
Joseph. 

As  Louis  defended  Holland  against  the  ever-increas¬ 
ing  encroachments  of  his  brother,  a  dispute  ensued 
between  them.  Louis  was  ordered  to  Paris,  where  it 
was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  he  effected  a  pro¬ 
longation  of  the  existence  of  the  Dutch  state.  July  1, 
1810,  he  abdicated  in  favor  of  his  eldest  son,  and  left 
Holland,  accompanied  by  two  friends,  and,  under  the 
title  of  Count  of  St.  Leu,  repaired  to  the  baths  of 
Tcplitz,  where  he  devoted  himself  to  literature,  and 
wrote  several  works.  He  lived  a  retired  life,  endeav¬ 
oring  to  re-establish  his  health.  Immediately  after 
his  abdication,  he  separated  from  Queen  Hortense,  and 
they  never  afterward  lived  together,  though  no  formal 
divorce  had  been  sought  by  either  party.  The  educa¬ 
tion  of  the  children  was  yielded  to  Hortense.  Louis 
finally  settled  in  Italy,  where  he  engaged  in  literary 
pursuits.  Among  the  works  he  gave  to  the  world  was 
a  novel  entitled  “Marie,”  in  the  style  and  story  of 
which  may  be  discerned  the  expression  of  the  author’s 
own  griefs,  and  still  abiding  melancholy ;  a  collection 
of  poetical  and  historical  documents  relating  to  Hol¬ 
land  ;  an  essay  on  versification  ;  a  number  of  poems ; 
and  finalljq  in  1829,  a  critique  on  Sir  Walter  Scott’s 


JEROME  BONAPARTE. 


337 


Life  of  Napoleon.  Until  bis  death,  which  occurred 
in  1846,  at  the  age  of  sixty-six,  he  lived  in  extreme 
seclusion. 

Jerome,  the  youngest  of  Napoleon’s  brothers,  was 
horn  December  15,  17S4.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  he 
entered  the  navy.  In  1801  he  was  appointed  to  the 
command  of  a  small  sloop  of  war,  and  employed  in 
the  expedition  to  St.  Domingo,  commanded  by  his 
brother-in-law,  General  Le  Clerc.  In  1802  he  re¬ 
turned  to  Paris.  In  the  same  year  he  visited  Brest, 
launching  into  extravagances,  contracting  debts  which 
he  had  not  the  means  to  pay,  and  drawing  on  his 
brother’s  secretary,  for  sums  which  the  First  Consul 
discharged  with  much  reluctance.  One  of  his  letters, 
in  particular,  excited  Napoleon’s  anger  :  it  was  filled 
with  accounts  of  the  entertainments  he  was  giving 
and  receiving,  and  concluded  that  he  had  drawn  for 
several  thousand  dollars.  To  this,  Bonaparte  wrote 
tbe  following  reply: — “I  have  seen  your  letter,  and 
am  impatient  to  hear  that  you  are  on  board  your 
frigate,  studying  a  profession  intended  to  be  the  means 
of  your  glory.  Die  young,  and  I  shall  have  some 
consolatfon ;  but  if  you  live  to  sixty,  without  having 
served  your  country  and  leaving  behind  you  any 
honorable  recollections,  you  had  better  not  have  been 
born.”  Jerome  never  realized  the  wishes  and  ex¬ 
pectations  of  his  brother.  On  the  receipt  of  this 
letter,  he  set  sail  for  Martinique,  and  resided,  while 
there,  with  Madame  de  la  Pagerie,  the  mother  of 
Josephine.  In  1803,  on  the  resumption  of  hostilities 
between  England  and  France,  he  had  frequent  oppor¬ 
tunities  of  distinguishing  himself ;  but,  after  cruising 


33S 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


for  a  few  months,  he  thought  proper  to  put  into 
New  York,  where  he  passed  in  dissipation  that  time 
which,  it  was  expected  he  would  have  employed  in 
facing  the  enemy.  Toward  the  close  of  the  year,  he 
married  Miss  Elizabeth  Patterson,- the  daughter  of 
a  rich  merchant  of  Baltimore.  He  remained  in 
America  until  the  spring  of  1805,  when  he  embarked 
for  Europe.  Landing  at  Lisbon,  he  proceeded  by  land 
to  Paris,  directing  the  ship  to  proceed  to  Amsterdam, 
from  which  place  he  intended  his  wife  should  follow 
him,  as  soon  as  he  had  obtained  the  requisite  permis¬ 
sion  from  his  imperial  brother.  On  her  arrival,  how¬ 
ever,  Madame  Jerome  Bonaparte,  not  being  permitted 
to  go  on  shore,  thought  it  advisable  to  trust  herself  to 
the  English.  She  accordingly  landed  at  Dover,  took 
up  her  residence  during  the  summer  at  Camberwell, 
and  in  the  autumn  returned  to  her  native  country. 

Hitherto,  Jerome  had  displayed  no  want  of  affection 
for  his  American  wife  —  a  lady  distinguished  alike  for 
her  beauty  and  her  talents.  On  the  conclusion  of  the 
peace  of  Tilsit,  Napoleon  having  represented  to  him 
that  the  branches  of  the  imperial  family  were  not  en¬ 
titled  to  enter  into  alliances  according  to  the  dictates 
of  their  own  feelings,  hut  were  bound  to  form  such  as 
were  most  suitable  to  his  policy,  Jerome  was  tempted 
to  sacrifice  the  connection  which  his  heart  had  chosen, 
and  become  the  tool  of  his  brother’s  overweening  am¬ 
bition.  The  better  to  secure  his  influence  in  Germany, 
Napoleon  demanded  in  marriage  for  him  a  daughter 
of  the  Elector  of  Saxony  ;  but  as  that  princess  would 
not  listen  to  the  proposal,  another  was  immediately 
sought  after.  On  the  12th  of  August,  1807,  Jerome 


JEROME  BONAPARTE. 


339 


espoused  the  Princess  Frederica  Catharina,  daughter 
of  the  King  of  Wurtemberg,  and,  a  few  days  after, 
was  proclaimed  King  of  Westphalia.  On  the  7th  of 
December,  a  decree  was  issued,  containing,  in  four 
pages,  the  constitution  of  the  new  kingdom  ;  by  an 
article  of  which,  in  default  of  legal  descendants  of 
King  Jerome,  the  throne  was  to  devolve  on  Kapoleon 
or  his  heirs.  It  was  published  on  the  15th,  the  new 
monarch’s  birthday,  who  had  then  completed  his 
twenty-second  year. 

Jerome  had  no  lack  of  common  sense.  Where  he 
was  not  imposed  on  by  intriguers,  but  was  left  to  pur¬ 
sue  the  dictates  of  his  heart,  he  generally  took  the 
right  course ;  and  had  his  ministers  united  a  turn 
for  business  with  integrity  and  a  knowledge  of  the 
world,  he  might  have  become  popular;  but,  from  the 
individuals  whom  he  had  collected  around  him,  it  was 
soon  very  evident  that  his  government  would  not  be 
a  wise  one.  Volatile  as  a  boy  just  escaped  from 
school,  he  had  a  passion  for  imitating,  in  public,  the 
pomp  and  state  of  his  imperial  brother;  but,  shut 
up  within  the  walls  of  his  palace,  he  would  give  loose 
to  all  the  idle  gayeties  of  childhood,  down  to  the 
taking  part  in  a  game  at  leapfrog  with  his  courtiers. 

On  his  arrival  at  Cassel,  he  had  the  mortification  to 
find  his  treasury  empty.  Jerome  applied  to  one  Isaac 
Jacobson,  a  Jew  banker,  who  obligingly  advanced  him 
$400,000  at  a  reasonable  interest.  Jerome  was  not 
ungrateful.  A  few  days  after  he  had  received  the 
moneys,  a  deputation  from  the  Jews  residing  at  West¬ 
phalia,  consisting  partly  of  rabbis  and  partly  of  elders, 
were  introduced  to  him  by  Jacobson,  who  was  their 


340 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


spokesman  on  the  occasion  ;  and  the  following  was  the 
royal  reply  :  —  “I  am  satisfied  with  your  speech.  The 
article  in  the  constitution  of  my  kingdom  which  estab¬ 
lishes  the  equality  of  all  religions  is  in  unison  with  the 
feelings  of  my  heart.  The  law  ought  to  interrupt  no 
one  in  the  exercise  of  his  worship.  Each  subject  is  as 
much  at  liberty  to  observe  the  rules  of  his  faith,  as  the 
king  is  to  follow  his  religion.  The  duties  of  the  citi¬ 
zen  are  the  only  objects  which  the  laws  of  the  govern¬ 
ment  can  regulate.  I  trust  I  shall  never  have  reason 
to  regret  what  I  am  doing  in  favor  of  your  people.” 
Westphalia  became,  indeed,  a  sort  of  land  of  promise 
for  the  Tribes  of  Israel.  Individuals  with  long  beards 
were  seen  in  all  the  public  offices.  The  minister  of 
state  was  a  Jew;  the  counselor  of  finances  (the  afore¬ 
mentioned  Jacobson)  was  a  Jew  ;  the  commissary  at 
war  was  a  Jew  ;  the  superintendent  of  hospitals  was  a 
Jew;  the  barrack-master  was  a  Jew. 

Cassel  now  presented  a  most  singular  spectacle. 
Around  the  dissolute  a-nd  extravagant  court  crowded  a 
host  of  rapacious  foreigners  and  idle  hangers-on,  of 
both  sexes  and  of  every  age  and  condition.  Unlike 
his  brother  Louis,  Jerome  affected  to  despise  the  na¬ 
tive  manners  of  his  subjects,  and  would  not  even  give 
himself  the  trouble  to  learn  their  language.  Tin's  lux¬ 
ury  and  dissipation  of  the  court  had  only  an  influence 
on  the  habits  of  the  people ;  but  the  proscription  of  the 
national  language  in  public  acts  mortified  their  self- 
love,  and  inflicted  a  deep  wound  on  their  feelings. 
As  the  French  were  to  be  imitated  in  every  thing, 
a  revolution  in  German  manners  and  German  morals 
was^  sought  to  be  effected  by  Parisian  boys  of  twenty 


JEROME  BONAPARTE. 


341 


and  courtiers  grown  gray  in  profligacy.  Jerome,  at 
one  time,  was  seized  with  the  mania  for  building.  He 
ordered  a  part  of  the  town  to  be  pulled  dowrn  ;  and  as 
German  activity  could  not  keep  pace  with  his  im¬ 
patience,  he  summoned  an  architect  from  Paris,  who 
would  soon  have  transformed  the  royal  city  into  an¬ 
other  Babylon,  if  the  resources  of  the  treasury  had 
corresponded  with  the  vast  conceptions  of  his  genius. 
The  labor  of  the  morning  was  frequently  destroyed 
in  the  evening,  because,  when  the  job  was  completed, 
Jerome  fancied  it  was  not  done  in  good  taste.  He 
would  say,  “I  will  have  this  done  to-night  ;  I  expect 
to  find  that  finished  by  the  morning;”  and  four  or  five 
hundred  workmen  w^ere  often  seen  toiling  by  torch¬ 
light  to  execute  the  supreme  command.  Contractors 
and  architects  found  their  account  in  the  frivolity 
and  caprice  of  the  royal  spendthrift. 

In  1812,  when  his  revelings  were  at  their  height,  he 
received  an  unexpected  summons  from  his  brother,  to 
attend  him  in  the  Russian  expedition  ;  but  as  his  mili¬ 
tary  movements  were  unfortunate,  he  was  ordered  to 
return  home.  To  conceal  his  mortification,  he  shut 
himself  up  with  his  favorites,  and  sought  to  dissipate 
his  chagrin  by  a  train  of  frivolous  amusements.  In 
the  following  year  on  the  evacuation  of  Germany  by 
the  French,  Jerome’s  own  subjects  rose  up  against 
him,  and  forced  him  to  abandon  his  capital.  Jerome 
took  refuge  in  France,  accompanied  by  the  amiable 
princess  his  wife,  whose  attachment  seemed  to  increase 
with  her  husband’s  reverses.  On  the  abdication  of 
Napoleon,  in  April,  1814,  they  were  compelled  to 
quit  Paris.  Jerome  was  at  Trieste  when  his  brother 


342 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


returned  from  Elba.  Though  closely  watched  by  the 
Austrian  government,  he  contrived  to  escape  to  Paris. 
He  soon  after  set  off  for  the  army  with  the  Emperor. 
He  fought  at  Waterloo,  where  he  displayed  much 
ability  and  courage,  exclaiming,  “We  ought  to  die 
here!  —  we  can  die  no  where  better  than  here!”  It 
was  to  him  that  Napoleon  left  the  task  of  collecting 
the  wreck  of  the  French  army  after  the  defeat. 

After  the  second  abdication,  Jerome  quitted  Paris, 
and,  assuming  a  disguise,  wandered  about  from  place  to 
place,  until  at  length  he  obtained  permission  from  his 
father-in-law,  the  King  of  AVurtemberg,  to  join  his  wife. 
In  February,  1816,  the  king  conferred  on  him  the  title 
of  Count  de  Montfort,  —  still  not  allowing  him  to  appear 
at  court,  or  enjoy  unrestrained  liberty.  Jerome,  how¬ 
ever,  two  years  afterward,  obtained  leave  to  settle  in 
the  Austrian  dominions. 

Of  all  Napoleon’s  brothers,  Jerome  was  unquestion¬ 
ably  the  least  indebted  to  nature.  He  has  been  truly 
described  as  a  good-natured,  silly,  unprincipled  volup¬ 
tuary  ;  whose  only  w7ish  was  to  enjo}'  the  sensual  grat¬ 
ifications  of  royalty,  without  submitting  to  its  toils, 
but,  at  the  same  time,  without  any  natural  inclination 
to  exercise  its  rigors.  His  subjects  were  accustomed  to 
call  him  “IJeliogabalns  in  miniature.”  Notwithstand¬ 
ing  the  bustle  and  splendor  which  he  created  among 
them,  the  Hessians  most  cordially  detested  him  and 
his  whole  crew  of  corrupters  and  squanderers.  Na¬ 
poleon  they  feared  and  cursed  ;  Jerome  they  despised 
and  laughed  at.  When,  on  his  flight,  he  carried  off 
the  public  treasures,  and  even  the  furniture  of  the  pal¬ 
ace,  they  were  thunderstruck,  “not  at  the  meanness 


JEROME  BONAPARTE, 


343 


of  the  thing,  but  at  the  possibility  of  King  Jerome 
possessing  so  much  foresight!  ” 

There  is,  however,  one  evidence  in  Jerome’s  favor, 
of  which  it  would  be  unjust  to  deprive  him.  On  the 
downfall  of  Napoleon,  the  King  of  "Wurtemberg  tried 
hard  to  prevail  on  his  daughter  to  separate  from  her 
husband.  The  princess,  who  clung  with  true  female 
constancy  to  her  disgraced  husband,  in  reply  to  her 
father’s  solicitations,  wrote  two  affectionate,  touching, 
and  truly  noble-minded  letters,  by  which,  to  use  Na¬ 
poleon’s  expression,  she  “honorably  inscribed  her  name 
in  history.”  She  avowed  her  irrevocable  resolution  to 
live  and  die  with  one  to  'whom  she  was  bound  by 
honor  and  duty,  and  whom  neither  could  permit  her 
to  leave,  especially  in  his  misfortunes.  She  appealed 
to  her  irreproachable  conduct  while  a  child,  to  prove 
that  she  was  no  stranger  to  the  voice  of  duty,  and  that 
her  conduct  as  a  wife  and  a  mother  might  be  expected 
to  be  equally  blameless.  She  acknowledged  that  the 
match  was  originally  one  of  policy,  but  affirmed,  that 
her  husband  now  possessed  her  heart,  and  that  her 
happiness  depended  on  her  continuing  with  him. 
“Best  of  fathers,  (concluded  this  amiable  woman,)  I 
throw  myself  at  your  feet,  and  implore  you  to  desist 
from  your  purpose;  for,  on  this  point,  my  resolution 
and  my  principles  are  unalterable.  It  would  be  cruel 
to  compel  me  to  continue  a  contest  in  which  I  should 
be  opposed  to  a  father,  whom  I  cherish  more  than  I  do 
my  own  existence.” 

After  the  death  of  the  Princess  Catharina,  in  1835, 
Jerome  removed  to  Florence,  where  he  remained  until 
the  Kevolution  of  1848,  when  he  returned  to  Paris, 


344 


LOUIS  NAFOLEON  AND  UIS  TIMES. 


where  he  still  resides.  The  admirable  Cathavina  of 
Wurtemberg  bore  him  three  children  —  two  sons  and 
a  daughter.  Jerome  Napoleon,  the  eldest,  (born  in 
1814,)  was  remarkable  for  his  extraordinary  resem¬ 
blance  to  the  Emperor ;  but  died  in  1846,  without 
having  distinguished  himself  in  any  way.  Napoleon, 
the  youngest,  (born  in  1823,)  was  elected  to  sit  in  the 
National  Assembly  of  France,  after  the  last  Revo- 
lution,  and  is  known  for  his  ultra-republican  views. 
The  daughter,  Letitia  Matilde,  married,  in  1841,  a 
wealthy  Russian  nobleman,  Count  Demidoff,  with 
whom  she  passes  her  time,  partly  at  Petersburg,  and 
partly  at  Paris.  Jerome  had  a  son  by  his  American 
wife,  born  shortly  after  the  separation  of  his  parents. 
ITe  has  continued  to  reside  in  this  country. 

Marie  Annie  Eliza,  eldest  of  Napoleon’s  three  sis¬ 
ters,  was  born  on  the  8th  of  January,  1777.  In  May, 
1797,  she  was  married  to  Felix  Bacciochi,  a  native  of 
Corsica,  of  a  noble  family,  but  at  that  time  only  a 
captain  of  infantry.  In  1800,  her  husband  being 
absent  with  his  regiment,  Madame  Bacciochi  went  to 
Paris,  where  she  remained  until  1805.  That  year,  the 
republic  of  Lucca,  and  afterward  that  of  Piombino  were 
changed  by  Napoleon  into  a  principality,  and  bestowed 
on  Eliza.  Upon  this  occasion  her  husband  was  created 
a  prince.  It  is  related  of  him  that  when  the  principal 
personages  of  the  capital  were  presented  to  his  new- 
made  highness,  being  accustomed  to  republican  man¬ 
ners,  they  apologized  for  acquitting  themselves  rather 
awkwardly  at  court.  Bacciochi,  however,  put  them 
quite  at  their  ease,  by  good-naturedly  answering,  “In 
that  case,  we  must  excuse  one  another ;  for  I  have  been 


ELIZA  BONAPARTE. 


345 


m 


just  as  little  irl  the  habit  of  acting  the  prince,  as  you 
the  courtiers.” 

In  March,  1809,  Eliza  was  further  created  Grand 
Duchess  and  governess-general  of  Tuscany ;  and  in 
her  administration  of  Lucca,  she  displayed  a  good 
deal  of  that  energy  of  character  which  marked  the 
genius  of  Napoleon.  She  conducted  the  department 
for  foreign  affairs  herself,  corresponded  directly  with 
the  French  minister,  whom  she  often  resisted,  and 
sometimes  obliged  her  brother  to  interfere  in  the  dis¬ 
cussions.  Jealous  of  her  authority,  Eliza  allowed  her 
husband  to  take  little  or  no  share  in  the  government. 
At  public  ceremonies  his  place  was  always  after  hers  ; 
and  at  reviews  he  was  merely  her  aid-de-camp.  She 
was  fond  of  luxury,  and  gave  way  to  the  feminine 
weakness  of  encouraging  admirers,  who,  if  common 
fame  may  be  credited,  were  not  suffered  to  sigh  in  vain. 
By  a  lively  writer  of  the  day  she  has  been  designated 
as  “  the  Semiramis  of  Lucca.”  She  nevertheless  proved 
herself,  on  numerous  occasions,  the  friend  of  improve¬ 
ment.  She  constructed  new  roads,  drained  marshes, 
colonized  the  deserted  wastes  of  Piombino,  founded 
seminaries  for  education,  and,  when  called  upon  to  re¬ 
linquish  her  throne,  had  taken  measures  for  the  estab¬ 
lishment  of  an  institute  for  the  encouragement  of  arts 
and  sciences.  An  enlightened  traveler  states  her  to 
have  been  greatly  beloved  by  her  subjects  ;  and  he 
goes  so  far  as  to  add,  that  during  her  reign  the  princi¬ 
pality  of  Lucca  “  had  become  a  paradise.” 

In  1815,  on  the  occupation  of  her  states  by  the 
troops  of  the  allies,  Eliza  was  desirous  of  taking  up 
her  abode  at  Bologna  ;  but  sho  was  sent  to  join  her 


346 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


sister  Caroline,  the  ex-queen  of  Naples,  in  Bohemia. 
Some  time  afterward  she  obtained  permission  to  settle 
at  Trieste,  where,  on  the  9th  of  August,  1820,  she  died. 
We  are  told  that  Napoleon,  on  accidentally  reading  at 
St.  Helena  an  account  of  his  sister’s  death,  was  thrown 
into  a  state  of  stupor,  and  continued  for  some  time 
motionless,  like  one  a  prey  to  the  most  violent  grief. 
“Eliza,  (he  said,)  has  just  shown  us  the  way.  Death, 
which  seemed  to  overlook  our  family,  now  begins  to 
strike  it.  I  shall  be  the  next  to  follow  her  to  the  grave.” 

The  peaceable  disposition  of  Bacciochi  formed  a 
striking  contrast  with  the  active,  bustling  spirit  of  his 
wife.  He  seems  to  have  been  considered  a  good  sort 
of  man,  who  did  not  care  to  apply  himself  to  business, 
and  only  sought  to  indulge  in  the  comforts  and  advan¬ 
tages  of  his  situation.  Bacciochi  and  Eliza  were  the 
parents  of  two  children  —  Napoleonne  Eliza,  born  June 
3d,  1806,  and  at  an  early  age  married  to  a  Count 
Carnerata  ;  and  Jerome  Charles,  born  July  3d,  1810. 

Maria  Pauline,  the  second  of  Napoleon’s  sisters,  was 
born  on  the  20th  of  October,  1780.  A  sad  accompa¬ 
niment  of  vanity  and  frivolity,  she  emerged  into  wo¬ 
manhood  a  very  paragon  of  beauty.  At  the  age  of 
sixteen  she  had  displayed  a  very  reprehensible  taste, 
by  becoming  warmly  attached  to  Stanislaus  Freron, 
who  superintended  the  operations  of  the  guillotine  at 
Marseilles  until  the  death  of  Robespierre.  Fortu¬ 
nately  saved  from  pollution  with  such  a  wretch,  and 
her  reputation  becoming  endangered  by  the  crowd 
of  admirers  she  encouraged  around  her,  her  brother 
hastened  her  marriage  with  young  Leclerc,  an  officer 
of  humble  origin,  but  of  considerable  promise,  whom 

15* 


PAULINE  BONAPARTE. 


347 


lie  immediately  elevated  to  the  rank  of  general.  Panline 
was  by  no  means  favorable  to  this  union,  insomuch  that, 
when  her  husband. was  appointed,  in  1801,  to  head  the 
expedition  to  St.  Domingo,  she  refused  to  accompany 
him,  and  it  required  all  the  authority  of  Napoleon,  who 
wished  to  silence  the  calumnies  of  his  enemies  by  so 
signal  a  proof  of  his  faith  in  the  success  of  the  enter¬ 
prise,  to  compel  her  compliance  with  an  imperative 
duty.  She  went  out  to  the  Antilles  accordingly,  and 
by  her  enlivening  entertainments,  struggled  for  a  time 
against  the  desolations  of  pestilence  ;  but  after  the 
death  of  Leclerc,  she  gladly  escaped  from  so  dismal  a 
scene  ;  and  carrying  back  his  embalmed  body  and  her 
treasures  in  the  same  coffin,  she  hurried  with  impatient 
alacrity  to  enjoy  again  the  pleasures  of  luxurious  Paris. 
Never  did  a  more  gay  or  fascinating  widow  flutter  in 
the  brilliant  circles  of  that  dissipated  capital.  Her 
ambition  was  to  outstrip  in  attractions  the  graceful 
Josephine.  Her  displays  were  theatrical  and  indeli¬ 
cate,  wdiile  in  envy  she  exceeded  the  usual  measure 
of  female  weakness,  although  in  other  respects  she  was 
full  of  generosity  and  good  nature.  She  often  pro¬ 
voked  the  displeasure  of  Napoleon,  but  never  failed 
to  pacify  him  by  her  blandishments,  for  he  knew  she 
was  really  attached  to  him,  and  he  willingly  suffered 
liiinself  to  be  coaxed  into  the  pardon  of  her  follies. 
Nevertheless,  he  deemed  it  prudent  she  should  take 
again,  with  all  dispatch,  another  husband,  who  might 
at  least  throw  over  her  the  mantle  of  the  conjugal 
name.  Accordingly,  in  1803,  she  was  married  to  the 
Prince  Camille  Borghese,  an  Italian  nobleman  of  largo 
possessions,  who  united  to  eligibility  in  this  respect 


348 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


the  complaisance  of  a  high-bred  consort.  During  the 
early  period  of  the  Revolution,  he  was  known  only 
by  his  having  filled,  with  many  other  noble  names, 
the  muster-roll  of  a  corps  of  national  guards  raised  by 
the  patriots  of  the  city  of  Rome,  where  he  was  remem¬ 
bered  for  the  more  than  Roman  indolence  of  his  dispo¬ 
sition,  and  the  perfect  stoicism  with  which  he  performed 
the  duties  of  his  military  toilet,  amid  the  crash  of  em¬ 
pires  and  the  dissolution  of  the  entire  frame  of  European 
society. 

Shortly  after  Pauline’s  marriage,  the  prince  took  her 
to  his  estates  in  Italy.  Her  journey  from  Paris  to 
Rome  partook  of  the  character  of  a  public  progress. 
She  was  every  where  accompanied  by  a  guard  of 
honor,  and  received  homage  in  every  town  and  village, 
as  sister  of  the  Emperor  and  wife  of  a  wealthy  Italian 
prince.  In  a  few  months  after  his  marriage,  Borghese 
reverted  to  the  frivolous  and  dissipated  habits  of  his 
youth.  The  princess  soon  had  rivals  ;  the  public  de¬ 
cencies  were  not  always  preserved  ;  in  a  few  years  a 
separation  took  place,  which,  notwithstanding  various 
attempts  to  negotiate  a  return,  continued  uninter¬ 
rupted  till  within  a  few  months  of  the  lady’s  decease. 

Pauline  now  took  up  her  residence  principally  at 
Paris  or  Neuilly.  She  is  allowed  to  have  been  at  this 
time  one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  in  Europe. 
Neither  jealousy  nor  envy,  so  quick  to  discover  faults 
in  whatever  claims  general  admiration,  ever  presumed 
to  Lint  at  the  slightest  blemish  in  her  classical  coum 
tenance.  Artists  were  unanimous  in  considering  her 
a  perfect  Venus  de  Medicis  ;  and  so  little  was  her  en¬ 
couragement  of  the  fine  arts  limited  by  the  ordinary 


RAULINE  BONAPARTE. 


349 


ideas  of  decorum,  that  Canova  was  permitted  to 
model  from  her  person  a  naked  Venus,  which  is  es¬ 
teemed  one  of  the  most  exquisite  of  his  works.  It  is 
reported  of  Pauline,  that  being  asked  by  an  English 
peeress  how  she  could  submit  to  such  an  exposure  of 
her  person,  she  conceived  that  the  question  only  related 
to  physical  inconveniences,  and  answered  “that  there 
was  a  fire  in  the  apartment!” 

Throughout  the  whole  of  Napoleon's  short  reign  in 
the  island  of  Elba,  Pauline  proved  that  she  had  some 
head  and  more  heart  ;  and  a  large  share  of  the  execu¬ 
tion  of  the  popular  conspiracy  which  ensued  was  in 
her  hands.  The  greater  portion  of  her  own  private 
jewels  were  sacrificed  to  the  Emperor  on  his  return  to 
France;  and  when  every  hope  was  lost,  she  proposed, 
with  a  frame  and  health  debilitated  in  the  extreme,  to 
watch  by  his  death-bed  at  St.  Helena.  With  this  view 
she  addressed,  in  July,  1821,  only  three  weeks  before 
the  intelligence  of  her  brother’s  death  reached  Europe, 
an  earnest  appeal  to  the  Earl  of  Liverpool,  then  at  the 
head  of  the  British  government.  “The  malady,  (said 
she,)  by  which  the  Emperor  is  attacked,  is  mortal  at 
St.  Helena.  In  the  name  of  all  the  members  of  the 
family,  I  claim  a  change  of  climate.  If  so  just  a  re¬ 
quest  be  refused,  it  will  be  a  sentence  of  death  passed 
upon  him  ;  and,  in  this  case,  I  demand  permission  to 
depart  for  St.  Helena,  to  rejoin  my  brother,  and  to  re¬ 
ceive  his  parting  breath.  I  know  that  the  moments  of 
his  life  are  counted,  and  I  should  eternally  reproach 
myself,  if  I  did  not  employ  all  the  means  in  niv  power 
to  soften  his  last  hours,  and  to  prove  my  devotion  to 
him.”  The  prayer  was  granted ;  but  the  concession 
«sme  too  late. 


350 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


Aftei  the  fall  of  Hapoleon,  Pauline  preserved  her 
position  at  Rome  with  great  eclat ;  though  certainly 
with  some  diminution,  in  consequence  of  her  separa¬ 
tion  from  her  husband.  She  was  allowed  to  occupy 
the  splendid  building  of  the  Borghese  palace,  the  prince 
himself  residing  at  Florence.  Her  residence  was  dis¬ 
tinguished  by  order,  elegance,  and  comfort.  It  was  the 
most  hospitable  house  at  Rome  ;  her  dinner-parties 
were  frequent  and  sumptuous;  her  concerts  and  soirees 
weekly.  In  her  lively  circle  a  great  number  of  the 
cardinals  were  always  to  be  found ;  and  it  has  often 
been  observed,  by  way  of  pleasantry,  that,  since  the 
days  of  Pope  Joan,  no  lady  was  ever  so  attended  by 
cardinals  as  the  beautiful  Pauline.  Her  person  was 
not  tall,  nor  imposing;  but  she  had  about  her  all  that 
indefinable  persuasiveness  which  captures  the  affections 
in  silence.  Her  forehead  was  classically  small ;  her 
eyes  of  a  gentle  blue,  and  generally  suffused  with  a 
sort  of  coquettish  sleepishness,  which,  whether  pro¬ 
duced  by  pain  or  pleasure,  wooed  and  won  the  imagi¬ 
nation  more  effectually  than  the  brightest  sparkle  from 
the  haughtiest  eye.  The  nose  was  straight  and  deli¬ 
cate  ;  the  mouth  exquisite,  particularly  when  she  spoke. 
On  her  head  the  most  beautiful  hair  was  generally 
moulded  into  the  choicest  forms.  Her  voice  was  of 
the  most  fascinating  sweetness,  and  enveloped  every 
thing  in  its  charm.  Her  conversation  is  represented 
as  having  been  perfectly  easy,  often  graceful,  but  al¬ 
ways  trifling.  There  was  nothing  in  it  of  the  daring 
and  decision  of  her  family.  Once,  however,  when  the 
embassador  Blacas  had  caused  a  French  painter,  whom 
she  had  employed  in  the  decoration  of  the  Villa 


CAROLINE  BONAPARTE. 


351 


Paolina,  to  retire  from  her  service,  she  replied  to  the 
notification,  that,  “A  government  which  feared  women 
could  have  little  to  hope  from  men.”  She  spent  the 
greater  part  of  her  latter  days  in  Tuscany,  far  from 
Pome  and  her  former  circle  of  associates.  She  became 
reconciled  to  her  husband,  in  whose  arms  sue  expired, 
at  the  Borghese  palace  near  Florence,  on  the  9th  of 
June,  1825. 

Caroline  Maria  Annonciade,  the  youngest  of  Na¬ 
poleon's  sisters,  was  born  March  26,  1782.  In  1800, 
she  was  married  to  Joachim  Murat,  one  of  Napoleon's 
generals.  In  1806,  Caroline  wTas  created  Grand  Duchess 
of  Berg,  and  two  years  afterward  she  became  Queen 
of  Naples.  In  1815,  when  the  reverses  of  the  French 
and  the  advance  of  the  Austrian  army  overthrew  the 
government  of  Murat,  and  the  city  of  Naples  was  on 
the  brink  of  anarchy,  plunder  and  massacre,  Caroline 
adopted  measures  equally  prompt,  wise  and  energetic, 
for  preserving  the  public  tranquillity.  She  assembled 
the  guards,  and,  assuming  their  uniform,  addressed 
them  in  a  speech  full  of  spirit  and  eloquence.  She 
was  on  horseback  nearly  the  whole  of  the  day,  and 
remained  to  the  last  hour,  visiting  every  post,  and 
assuring  herself  of  the  vigilance  of  all  the  authorities, 
until  the  approach  of  the  Austrians  compelled  her  to 
capitulate  to  an  English  officer,  who  received  her  and 
her  children  on  board  his  ship  ;  to  which  she  was  ac¬ 
tually  followed  by  the  infuriated  lazzaroni,  insulting 
and  shocking  her  ears  by  the  most  licentious  songs. 

Nature  had  endowed  Caroline  with  a  resolute  temper, 
a  vigorous  understanding,  lofty  ideas,  and  a  flex¬ 
ible  and  delicate  mind.  Her  manners  were  highly 


352 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


graceful  and  captivating.  Talleyrand  said  of  her,  that 
“  She  had  Cromwell’s  head  on  the  shoulders  of  a  pretty 
woman.”  Nothing  mortified  her  more,  when  only 
Grand  Duchess  of  Berg,  than  to  be  constrained  to  ad¬ 
dress  the  wife  of  her  brother  Joseph  as  “Your  ma¬ 
jesty  ;  ”  and  she  often  complained  to  the  Emperor  of 
what  she  called  his  undue  partiality  to  that  prince, 
and  his  forgetfulness  of  herself  and  husband.  “  Your 
complaints  surprise  me,  (said  Napoleon,  on  one  occa¬ 
sion  ;)  to  hear  you  talk,  any  one  would  imagine  that  I 
had  deprived  you  of  your  succession  to  the  inheritance 
of  the  late  king  your  father !  ” 

Made  a  widow,  in  1815,  by  the  execution  of  her 
husband,  Caroline  Bonaparte,  with  her  four  children, 
settled,  after  various  changes  of  residence,  at  Trieste, 
where,  under  the  title  of  Countess  of  Lipona,  she  re¬ 
sided  with  her  sister  Eliza.  In  1836,  she  returned  to 
Paris,  where,  for  some  time,  she  enjoyed  a  pension 
from  Louis  Philippe,  but  finally  removed  to  Florence. 
She  died  in  May,  1839,  at  the  age  of  fifty-seven.  Of 
her  four  children,  the  oldest,  Napoleon  Achille  Murat, 
(born  in  1801,)  came  to  the  United  States  in  1820. 
Here  he  married,  resided  for  a  time  in  New  York, 
then  practiced  as  an  advocate  in  Georgia,  and  after¬ 
ward  purchased  a  plantation  in  Florida.  He  visited 
Europe  in  1831,  and  wrote  a  book  “  on  the  moral  and 
political  condition  ”  of  the  people  of  the  United  States. 
He  returned  to  this  country,  but  finally,  in  1839,  again 
went  to  Europe  and  died  in  1847.  His  younger  brother, 
Napoleon  Lucien  Charles,  (born  in  1803,)  went  through 
a  similar  career  —  coming  to  the  United  States  when 
young,  marrying  an  American  wife,  entering  into 


LETITIA  BONAPARTE. 


353 


practice  as  a  lawyer  in  New  York,  and  yet,  notwith¬ 
standing  this  virtual  naturalization,  finally  forced  back 
to  Europe  by  the  ineradicable  Napoleonic  interest. 
Ilis  two  sisters,  (the  one  born  in  1802,  the  other  in 
1805,)  were  married,  the  elder  to  a  Count  Rasponi,  the 
younger  to  Count  Pepoli,  a  well-known  Italian  patriot, 
who  was  driven  as  a  political  exile  to  London,  where 
he  obtained  a  professorship  in  a  college. 

Letitia  Bonaparte,  the  mother  of  Napoleon,  went  to 
Borne,  after  the  second  abdication  of  her  son ;  she 
lived  to  the  extreme  age  of  eighty-six,  and  died  Febru¬ 
ary  2,  1836.  She  was  a  woman  of  extraordinary  vigor 
of  mind,  and  possessed  much  pride  and  loftiness  of 
spirit.  Shortly  after  Napoleon’s  assumption  of  the  impe¬ 
rial  purple,  happening  to  meet  his  mother  in  the  gardens 
of  St.  Cloud,  he,  half-playfully,  half-seriously,  presented 
her  his  hand  to  kiss.  She  flung  it  back  indignantly, 
and  tendering  her  own,  exclaimed,  in  the  presence  of 
her  suite,  “  C’est  a  vous  de  baiser  la  main  de  celle  qui 
vous  a donne  la  vie”  —  “It  is  your  duty  to  kiss  the 
hand  of  her  who  gave  you  life.”  Napoleon  imme¬ 
diately  stooped  over  his  mother’s  hand,  and  affection¬ 
ately  kissed  it. 

From  the  period  of  the  imprisonment  of  Napoleon 
at  St.  Helena,  until  his  death,  her  mind  seems  to  have 
been  engrossed  by  one  object  —  that  being,  whose 
pride  she  had  reproved  in  the  days  of  his  brightest 
glory.  Napoleon  fully  appreciated  her  love.  “For 
me,  (said  lie,)  she  would  doom  herself  to  live,  on  brown 
bread.”  In  October,  1818,  she  addressed  an  affecting 
appeal  to  the  allied  sovereigns  assembled  at  Aix-la- 
Chapelle,  in  his  behalf:  “Sires,  (said  she,)  I  am  a 


354 


LOUIS  NAUOI.EON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


mother,  and  my  son’s  life  is  dearer  to  me  than  my 
own.  In  the  name  of  Him  whose  essence  is  goodness, 
and  of  whom  your  imperial  and  royal  majesties  are 
the  image,  I  entreat  you  to  put  a  period  to  his  misery, 
and  to  restore  him  to  liberty.  For  this,  I  implore  God, 
and  I  implore  you,  who  are  his  vicegerents  on  earth. 
Reasons  of  state  have  their  limits ;  and  posterity, 
which  gives  immortality,  adores,  above  all  things,  the 
generosity  of  conquerors.”  The  death  of  Madame 
Letitia,  which  was  preceded  by  long  and  severe  bodily 
suffering,  took  place  in  February,  1836,  fifteen  years 
after  the  decease  of  her  imperial  son  at  St.  Helena, 
and  nearly  four  after  that  of  his  sickly  heir  at  Vi¬ 
enna.  Of  the  eighty-six  years  that  she  had  lived, 
fifty  had  been  passed  in  widowhood  —  a  widowhood 
how  eventful ! 

Eugene  Beauharnais,  the  son  of  Josephine,  after  the 
events  of  1815,  repaired  to  the  court  of  his  father-in- 
law,  the  King  of  Bavaria,  where  he  received  the  title 
of  Duke  of  Leuchtenberg.  He  died  in  1824,  in  the 
forty-fourth  year  of  his  age,  leaving  two  sons  and  four 
daughters.  Most  of  these  have  made  what  may  be 
called  fortunate  matches.  Of  the  sons,  Augustus 
espoused,  in  1835,  the  young  Queen  of  Portugal, 
Donna  Maria,  daughter  of  Don  Pedro,  but  he  unfor¬ 
tunately  died  shortly  after  the  nuptials  ;  the  youngest, 
Maximilian,  now  Duke  of  Leuchtenberg,  obtained,  in 
1839,  the  hand  of  the  Grand  Duchess  Maria  Nicola- 
jewna,  daughter  of  Nicholas,  Czar  of  Russia.  The  eldest 
daughter,  Josephine,  is  the  present  Queen  of  Sweden, 
having  married  Oscar,  son  of  Bernadotte,  in  1823. 
The  second  is  the  wife  of  a  German  prince ;  the  third 


THE  BONAPARTE  FAMILY. 


355 


married  Don  Pedro,  Emperor  of  Brazil,  and  thereby 
became  the  mother-in-law  of  her  own  brother,  the  hus¬ 
band  of  Donna  Maria  ;  the  fourth  married  a  certain 
Count  of  Wurtemberg.  To  complete  this  medley  of 
European  alliances,  the  daughter  of  Stephanie,  Grand 
Duchess  of  Baden,  and  niece  of  the  Empress  Jose¬ 
phine,  has  been  recently  united  to  a  Scotch  nobleman, 
the  Marquis  of  Douglas,  only  son  of  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton,  ranking  one  of  the  highest  among  the  Brit¬ 
ish  peerage  for  martial  ancestry  and  vast  possessions. 

Ho  family,  plebeian  or  patrician,  has  ever  become  so 
truly  considerable  and  cosmopolitan,  either  as  regards 
elevation  or  diffusion,  as  the  Bonapartes.  Napoleon 
was  twice  crowned  ;  Joseph  was  successively  King  of 
Naples  and  of  Spain ;  Louis  was  elevated  to  the  throne 
of  Holland,  and  afterward  declined  two  other  crowns ; 
Jerome  was  made  King  of  Westphalia;  one  of  the  sis¬ 
ters  was  a  queen,  and  the  others  were  elevated  to  high 
dignities.  The  immediate  descendants  of  these  have 
formed  royal  and  aristocratic  alliances.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that,  on  the  whole,  they  have  merited  this  dis¬ 
tinction,  for  they  have  generally  remained  faithful  to 
the  cause  of  progress,  in  whose  name  they  first  ob¬ 
tained  power.  Their  fortunes,  for  a  time  partially 
obscured,  are  again  brightening.  Scarcely  had  the 
Revolution  of  February,  1848,  occurred,  when,  rising 
from  their  haunts  in  all  parts  of  Europe,  the  various 
members  of  the  family,  with  Jerome,  the  old  ex-king 
of  Westphalia  at  their  head,  hurried  to  the  scene  of 
action.  France  received  them  with  open  arms.  At 
the  first  elections  to  the  National  Assembly  three 
of  them  were  returned  as  representatives  —  Pierre 


356 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


Bonaparte,  the  second  son  of  Lucien,  and  the  brother 
of  the  ornithologist,  aged  thirty-three;  Napoleon  Bona¬ 
parte,  the  son  of  Jerome,  aged  twenty-six;  and  Na¬ 
poleon  Lucien  Charles  Murat,  the  former  New  York 
lawyer,  aged  forty-five.  The  case  of  Louis  Napoleon, 
as  we  have  seen,  was  more  peculiar.  People  naturally 
hesitated  before  admitting  to  the  benefits  of  republican 
citizenship  so  exceptional  a  personage  as  the  imperial¬ 
ist  adventurer  of  Strasbourg  and  Boulogne.  Twice  he 
was  elected  by  several  departments  simultaneously, 
and  twice  he  found  himself  compelled  to  decline  the 
honor ;  and  it  was  not  till  after  the  supplementary 
elections  of  September,  1848,  wrhen  he  was  returned  at 
the  head  of  the  poll  for  Paris,  with  a  number  of  other 
candidates,  that  he  was  able  to  defy  opposition  and 
take  his  seat.  Once  restored  to  France,  the  outburst 
of  opinion  in  his  favor  was  instantaneous  and  univer¬ 
sal.  From  Calais  to  the  Pyrenees,  from  the  Bay  of 
Biscay  to  the  Rhine,  he  was  the  hero  of  the  hour. 
Lamartine,  Cavaignac,  and  everybody  else  that  had 
done  an  efficient  thing,  were  forgotten  ;  and  the  result 
of  the  great  election  of  the  10th  of  December  was, 
that,  as  if  in  posthumous  justification  of  enterprises 
that  the  world  till  then  had  agreed  to  laugh  at,  the 
former  prisoner  of  Ham  was  raised,  by  the  suffrages 
of  five  millions  of  people,  to  the  presidency  of  the 
French  republic. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  “COUP  D  ’  ETAT”  AND  EMPIRE. 

The  act  of  the  French  nation  which  placed  Louis 
Napoleon  at  the  head  of  the  Republic,  and  confided  to 
his  hands  whatsoever  remained  of  the  authority  of 
government,  was  undoubtedly  as  clear  and  emphatical 
an  act  of  popular  sovereignty  as  had  ever  been  per¬ 
formed  by  a  vast  nation.  It  was  scarcely  less  unani¬ 
mous  than  that  acclamation  of  the  emancipated  citi¬ 
zens  of  the  United  States  which  called  the  successful 
defender  of  our  fortunes  in  the  field,  to  be  the  sage 
and  pacific  founder  of  our  federal  constitution.  Re¬ 
garding,  as  we  do,  the  will  of  the  people  to  be  the 
highest  sanction  of  authority,  and  the  safest  rule  of 
government,  we  must  acknowledge  that  there  has  sel¬ 
dom  been  an  election  more  absolute  than  that  in 
France,  December  10,  1848,  which  elevated  Louis  Na¬ 
poleon  to  the  presidency  of  that  great  nation.  It  set 
aside  every  conflicting  claim  ;  it  baffled  every  hostile 
calculation.  The  full  consequences  of  the  choice  then 
made  by  the  French  people  are  not  yet  completely 
developed. 

The  first  act  of  Louis  Napoleon  was  to  assure  the 
Assembly  and  the  country  that  he  was  devoted  to 
republican  principles,  and  that  the  aim  of  his  adminis¬ 
tration  would  be  to  develop  and  establish  republican 


35S 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


institutions.  “We  have,”  he  said,  “a  great  mission  to 
fulfill  —  it  is,  to  found  a  republic  in  the  interest  of  all, 
and  a  government,  just  and  firm,  which  shall  be  ani¬ 
mated  by  a  sincere  love  of  progress,  without  being 
either  reactionary  or  Utopian.  Let  us  be  men  of  one 
country,  not  party  men,  and  by  the  help  of  God  we 
shall  be  able,  at  least,  to  do  some  good,  if  we  are  able 
to  do  no  great  things.”  The  suffrages  of  the  nation,  he 
said,  and  his  personal  sentiments,  commanded  his  fu¬ 
ture  conduct,  and  imposed  upon  him  duties  which  he 
would  fufi  11  as  a  man  of  honor,  lie  would  treat  as  ene¬ 
mies  of  the  country  whoever  should  attempt  to  subvert 
the  constitution,  and  between  him  and  the  Assem¬ 
bly  would  exist  the  most  perfect  harmony  of  views.  lie 
would  exert  himself  to  place  society  on  its  real  basis, 
and  to  relieve  the  sufferings  of  a  people  who  had  borne 
such  generous  and  intelligent  testimony.  He  would 
endeavor  to  restore  to  the  government  the  moral  force 
of  which  it  stood  in  need,  and  to  maintain  peace  and 
order.  He  had  called  around  him  men  distinguished 
for  talent  and  patriotism,  who,  notwithstanding  the 
differences  of  their  political  origin,  would  assist  him 
in  consolidating  the  new  institutions  of  the  coun¬ 
try.  He  then  eulogized  the  becoming  conduct  and 
loyalty  of  which  General  Cavaignac  had  given  so 
many  and  such  signal  proofs,  and  pledged  himself 
strenuously  to  labor  to  accomplish  the  great  mission 
of  founding  a  republic. 

The  constitution  of  the  republic,  which  Louis  Na- 
poleon  had  sworn  to  support,  had  been  adopted  by  the 
National  Assembly  in  November,  1848.  It  com¬ 
menced  by  declaring  France  to  be  a  republic.  The 


THE  PRESIDENT  AND  THE  ASSEMBLY. 


359 


legislative  power  was  conferred  on  an  Assembly  of 
nine  hundred  members,  to  be  elected  by  universal 
suffrage.  All  Frenchmen  of  the  age  of  twenty-one 
were  constituted  electors,  and  wrere  to  be  eligible  to 
office  at  the  age  of  twenty-five.  The  executive  power 
was  vested  in  the  president,  to  be  elected  for  four 
years,  and  to  be  ineligible  to  re-election  until  after  an 
interval  of  four  years.  A  council  of  state  was  also 
constituted,  consisting  of  forty  members,  to  be  elected 
by  the  Assembly,  and  were  to  hold  office  six  years. 
They  were  to  be  consulted  in  prescribed  cases,  but 
were  to  have  no  voice  respecting  the  finances,  the  state 
of  the  army,  or  the  ratifications  of  treaties.  The  vice 
president  of  the  republic  was  to  be  president  of  the 
council.  It  was  provided  that  the  constitution  might 
be  revised  in  case  the  Assembly,  during  the  last 
year  of  its  term,  should  vote  any  modification  to  be 
advisable. 

From  the  outset,  it  was  assumed  by  a  large  body 
of  the  Assembly,  that  Louis  Napoleon  would  prove 
unfaithful  to  his  oath,  and  endeavor  to  establish  an 
imperial  dynasty.  With  this  view,  an  active  opposi¬ 
tion  was  organized,  which,  however  well-grounded 
were  their  suspicions,  or  however  patriotic  their  mo¬ 
tives,  could  have  no  other  tendency  than  to  urge  the 
President  into  the  adoption  of  unauthorized,  but  deci¬ 
sive  measures,  for  the  maintenance  of  his  authority. 

Another  circumstance  rendered  an  ultimate  collision 
between  the  President  and  the  Assembly  almost  in¬ 
evitable.  The  constitution  of  the  republic  had  been 
adopted  with  extreme  haste.  The  distinctive  rights 
and  duties  of  the  Assembly  and  of  the  President  had 


360  LOUIS  NAPOLKON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 

not  been  defined  with  sufficient  clearness.  In  the  ex¬ 
ercise  of  its  prerogatives,  either  party  was  open  to 
the  jealousy  of  the  other.  The  Assembly  comprised 
adherents  of  the  elder  and  younger  branches  of  the 
Bourbons,  of  socialists  and  ultra  republicans.  There 
was  always  a  majority  against  Louis  Napoleon,  except 
when,  playing  faction  against  faction,  party  against 
party,  he  gained  a  momentary  ascendancy.  He  had  no 
power  to  prorogue  or  dissolve  the  Assembly,  and  thus 
permit  the  people  by  a  new  election  to  approve  or 
condemn  his  policy.  Being  constrained  to  select  his 
ministry  from  the  majority  of  the  existing  Assembly, 
every  measure  he  succeeded  in  carrying  was  accom¬ 
plished  through  a  new  combination,  and  of  course 
occasioned  the  formation  of  a  new  ministry.  If  an 
appeal  to  the  people,  through  the  dissolution  of  one 
Assembly  and  the  election  of  another,  could  have 
been  made,  the  great  disaster  which  has  befallen  re¬ 
publican  institutions,  in  France,  would  probably  have 
been  avoided. 

Every  successive  month,  after  the  elevation  of  Louis 
Napoleon,  exhibited  an  increasing  hostility  between 
the  President  and  the  Assembly.  But  throughout 
these  difficulties,  Louis  Napoleon  evinced  a  political 
skill  and  dexterity  scarcely  inferior  to  that  manifested 
in  the  field  by  the  Emperor  Napoleon.  Although  his 
personal  adherents  in  the  Assembly  never  exceeded 
one-third  of  the  members  of  that  body,  he  managed 
to  carry  his  measures  by  a  division  of  his  oppo¬ 
nents.  Every  conflict  with  the  Assembly  considerably 
strengthened  his  popularity  with  the  people,  for  he 
succeeded  in  convincing  the  middle  classes  that  the 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AT  IIAM. 


361 


only  hope  of  peace  and  stability  rested  on  his  pos¬ 
session  of  power.  In  one  of  his  tours  through  the 
country,  he  visited  Ham,  the  scene  of  his  former  im¬ 
prisonment,  and  in  a  speech  at  a  public  banquet,  made 
the  following  remarks  :  “Now  that  I  am  the  choice  of 
all  France,  because  the  legitimate  chief  of  this  great 
nation,  I  cannot  glory  in  a  captivity  which  had  for  its 
cause  an  attack  against  a  regular  government.  When 
we  see  what  evils  follow  even  the  most  just  revolu¬ 
tions,  I  can  scarcely  comprehend  the  audacity  of  hav¬ 
ing  wished  to  take  on  myself  the  terrible  responsibility 
of  effecting  a  change.  I  do  not,  therefore,  complain 
of  having  expiated  in  this  place,  by  an  imprisonment 
of  six  years,  my  rashness  against  the  laws  of  my  coun¬ 
try  ;  and  it  is  with  happiness  that,  in  the  very  place 
of  my  suffering,  I  propose  to  you  a  toast  in  honor  of — 
‘  the  men  who  are  determined,  in  spite  of  their  convic¬ 
tions,  to  respect  the  institutions  of  their  country.”’ 

It  must  not  be  forgotten,  in  an  estimate  of  French 
affairs,  that  at  the  time  of  the  Kevolution  of  1848,  no 
great  party  out  of  Paris,  was  in  favor  of  a  republic. 
The  monarchy  was  annulled  by  the  excited  populace 
of  Paris,  and  a  handful  of  resolute  individuals,  deeply 
penetrated  with  the  conviction  that  all  kings  are  mis¬ 
chievous,  and  prompted  by  a  sincere  desire  to  frame  a 
government  upon  thoroughly  democratic  principles, 
seized  the  occasion  when  all  was  confusion,  to  decree 
a  republic.  Once  decreed,  no  party  thought  it  safe  to 
unsettle  a  framework  whose  destruction  might  result 
in  the  greatest  calamities.  The  probable  rivalry  be¬ 
tween  the  Bonaparte,  Bourbon  and  Orleans  parties,  in 

the  event  of  the  restoration  of  a  dynasty,  offered  serious 

16 


3G2 


LOTT  19  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


objections  to  a  resumption  of  monarchical  government. 
Hence,  the  republic,  once  proclaimed,  accepted  by 
some  foreign  powers  and  rejected  by  some  of  its  neigh¬ 
bors,  became  inevitable.  But  the  whole  career  of  the 
first  Assembly  was  a  series  of  intrigues  against  the 
President,  of  squabbles  among  its  members,  of  assaults 
upon  the  liberties  of  the  nation,  of  violations  of  its 
trust,  and  of  decisions  which  gave  the  lie  to  its  origin 
and  its  professions.  Elected  under  a  republic  to  per¬ 
fect  and  consolidate  republican  institutions  —  com¬ 
mencing  life  by  swearing  allegiance  and  fidelity  to  the 
republic,  it  was  in  great  part  composed  of  Bourbons, 
Orleanists,  and  Bonapartists  desirous  of  making  Louis 
Napoleon  Emperor.  These  parties  made  no  secret  of 
their  actual  views  or  of  their  ulterior  designs.  Proba 
bly  not  more  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  were  genuine 
republicans,  who  were  faithful  to  their  important  trust. 
The  Orleanists  openly  visited  Louis  Philippe  and  in¬ 
trigued  for  the  return  of  the  exiled  family.  The  “le¬ 
gitimists” —  adherents  of  the  elder  branch  of  the  Bour¬ 
bons —  avowedly  received  their  directions  from  Wiesba¬ 
den,  where  the  representatives  of  that  family  resided. 
The  Bonapartists  openly  sighed  for  the  empire,  and 
were  encouraged  by  Louis  Napoleon,  although  he  re¬ 
mained  professedly  attached  to  the  republic.  A  sad¬ 
der,  more  factious,  or  more  disreputable  spectacle  than 
that  presented  by  President  and  Assembly,  a  free 
country  had  seldom  seen.  The  legislative  body  turned 
around  almost  immediately  upon  the  constituents  who 
had  elected  them.  They  abolished  universal  suffrage 
by  a  majority  of  466  to  223  and  disfranchised  three 
millions  of  electors.  They  sent  an  army  to  crush  the 


POLICY  OF  LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 


363 


republic  of  Rome,  then  so  gallantly  fighting  for  its 
existence,  by  469  votes  to  180.  They  handed  over  the 
education  of  the  youth  of  the  country  exclusively  to 
the  catholic  clergy  by  445  votes  to  187.  They  enacted 
laws  and  sanctioned  proceedings  against  the  liberty  of 
the  press,  more  severe  than  Louis  Philippe  had  ever 
ventured  upon. 

While  the  Assembly  were  thus  conspiring  against, 
and  violating  and  discrediting  the  constitution  to  which 
they  owed  their  existence,  and  which  they  had  sworn 
to  maintain,  the  conduct  of  the  President  seemed  also 
unpatriotic  and  dishonest.  Almost  from  the  day  of 
his  inauguration,  it  was  evident  that  he  was  deter¬ 
mined  on  a  re-election  —  by  a  revision  of  the  constitu¬ 
tion,  if  that  could  be  obtained,  if  not,  in  defiance  of 
the  constitution.  It  is  almost  certain  that  he  aimed, 
not  only  at  a  prolongation,  but  at  an  increase  of  his 
power.  For  this  he  flattered  the  army;  for  this  he 
removed  and  appointed  military  and  civil  officers ;  for 
this  he  made  concessions  to  the  priests ;  for  this  he 
joined  the  majority  which  enacted  the  law  restricting 
suffrage;  and  for  this  he  afterward  joined  the  republicans 
in  demanding  the  repeal  of  that  law.  Ilis  actions  ap¬ 
peared  to  display  a  patient,  plodding,  and  unscrupulous 
ambition.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  always  evinced 
so  much  sagacity,  and  often  such  dignity  ;  his  language 
and  bearing  were  moulded  with  such  unerring  tact  to 
suit  the  tastes  and  fancies  of  the  French  people  ;  and 
his  personal  objects,  so  far  as  they  were  seen,  were  sup¬ 
posed  to  harmonize  so  much  with  the  apparent  inter¬ 
ests  of  the  country,  that  his  popularity  evidently 
increased  with  all  classes.  His  messages  and  speeches, 


364 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  niS  TIMES. 


Whatever  may  be  thought  of  their  sincerity,  were  al¬ 
ways  characterized  by  moderation  and  an  apparent  pat¬ 
riotism.  Ilis  speech  at  a  public  banquet  in  Paris,  on 
the  first  anniversary  of  his  election  to  the  presidency, 
will  serve  as  an  example  of  the  style  and  tone  of  his 
addresses  : 

“Gentlemen, — I  thank  the  municipal  body  for  hav¬ 
ing  invited  me  to  the  hotel  de  ville,  and  for  having 
to-day  distributed  bountiful  assistance  to  the  indigent. 
To  relieve  misfortune  was  in  my  eyes  the  best  manner 
of  celebrating  the  10th  of  December.  I  shall  not  here 
recapitulate  what  wTe  have  done  during  the  last  year, 
but  the  only  thing  of  which  1  am  proud  is  of  having, 
thanks  to  the  men  who  have  surrounded  and  who  still 
surround  me,  maintained  legality  intact,  and  tranquil¬ 
lity  without  collision.  The  year  which  is  about  to  com¬ 
mence  will,  I  hope,  be  still  more  fertile  in  happy  re¬ 
sults,  more  particularly  if  all  the  great  powers  remain 
closely  united.  By  great  powers,  I  mean  those  elected 
by  the  people  —  the  Assembly  and  the  President. 
Yes,  I  have  faith  in  their  fruitful  union  ;  we  shall 
march  forward,  instead  of  remaining  motionless  ;  for 
what  gives  irresistible  force,  even  to  the  most  humble 
mortal,  is  to  have  before  him  a  great  object  to  attain, 
and  behind  him  a  great  cause  to  defend.  For  us,  this 
cause  is  that  of  entire  civilization.  It  is  the  cause  of 
that  enlightened  and  sacred  liberty,  which  every  day 
finds  itself  more  and  more  threatened  by  the  excesses 
which  profane  it.  It  is  the  cause  of  the  laboring 
classes,  whose  welfare  is  incessantly  compromised  by 
those  senseless  theories  which,  b}7  rousing  the  most 
brutal  passions  and  the  most  legitimate  fears,  excite 
hatred  against  even  the  idea  of  ameliorations.  It  is 
the  cause  of  the  representative  government,  which  loses 
its  salutary  prestige  by  the  acrimony  of  the  language, 
and  the  delays  which  arise  in  the  adoption  of  the  most 
useful  measures.  It  is  the  cause  of  the  grandeur  and 
the  independence  of  France;  for,  if  the  ideas  which 
we  oppose  were  to  triumph,  they  would  destroy  our 


FKENCII  INTERVENTION  IN  ROME. 


365 


finances,  our  army,  our  credit,  and  our  preponderance, 
while  forcing  us  to  declare  war  against  the  whole  of 
Europe.  Never,  therefore,  has  a  cause  been  more  just, 
more  patriotic,  and  more  sacred  than  ours.  As  to  the 
object  which  we  have  to  attain,  it  is  as  noble  as  the 
cause.  It  is  not  the  pitiful  copy  of  a  past  of  any  kind 
that  we  have  to  make,  but  it  is  to  call  on  all  men  of 
heart  and  intelligence  to  consolidate  something  which 
is  more  grand  than  a  charter,  more  durable  than  a  dy¬ 
nasty —  the  eternal  principles  of  religion  and  morality — 
at  the  same  time  as  the  new  rules  of  a  wholesome  policy. 
The  city  of  Paris,  so  intelligent,  and  which  does  not 
wish  to  remember  the  revolutionary  agitations  except 
to  appease  them,  will  understand  a  line  of  conduct 
which,  in  following  the  narrow  path  traced  out  by  the 
constitution,  permits  the  view  of  a  vast  horizon  of  hope 
and  of  security.  It  has  been  often  said,  that  when 
honor  is  spoken  of,  it  finds  an  echo  in  France.  Let  us 
hope  that  when  reason  is  spoken  of,  it  will  find  an 
equal  echo  in  the  minds  as  in  the  hearts  of  men  de¬ 
voted,  before  all  tilings,  to  their  country.  I  propose 
a  toast — ‘  To  the  city  of  Paris  and  to  the  municipal 
body.”’ 

For  the  double  purpose  of  conciliating  the  pope,  and 
of  preventing  the  increase  of  Austrian  influence  in 
Italy,  one  of  the  earliest  acts  of  Louis  Napoleon  was, 
to  send  an  army,  under  the  command  of  General  Oudi- 
not,  against  the  republicans  of  Rome,  who  had  driven 
the  pope  from  his  dominions  and  established  a  liberal 
government.  Pope  Pius  IX.,  who  commenced  his  pon¬ 
tificate  in  1846,  was  at  first  inclined  to  favor  many 
reforms  in  the  papal  states;  but  in  the  revolutionary 
movement,  which  swept  like  a  hurricane  over  the 
thrones  of  Europe  in  1848,  he  found  his  people  desirous 
of  obtaining  more  thorough  reforms  than  he  was  wil- 
ling  to  grant,  and  in  the  conflict  which  ensued,  the 
republicans  obtained  the  mastery.  A  brief  notice  of 


3fi6 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


these  events  cannot  be  without  interest,  as  they  are 
intimately  connected  with  the  development  of  Louis 
Napoleon’s  policy. 

About  thirty  years  before  his  elevation  to  the  pa¬ 
pacy,  Pius  IX.  had  been  one  of  the  gayest,  hand¬ 
somest  and  most  fascinating  gentlemen  in  Italy  ;  and 
was  on  the  eve  of  marriage  with  a  lovely  and  noble 
lady,  to  whom  he  was  tenderly  attached,  when  death 
suddenly  deprived  him  of  his  treasure.  Her  loss  occa¬ 
sioned  him  such  deep  sorrow,  that  he  renounced  the 
hopes  and  pleasures  of  the  world,  and  became  a  priest. 
He  had,  until  then,  borne  the  epaulettes  of  the  Austrian 
service,  and  was  distinguished  among  his  companions 
by  his  proud  and  gallant  bearing.  Now,  his  martial 
ardor  was  exchanged  for  a  martyr’s  zeal,  and  he  went 
as  a  missionary  to  preach  the  gospel  among  the  tribes 
of  South  America.  In  vain  did  he  expose  himself  to 
the  toils  and  perils  incident  to  this  life  of  self-devo¬ 
tion  ;  he  survived  them  all ;  and  after  an  absence  of 
some  years,  returned  to  Italy,  whither  he  had  been 
recalled  by  his  superiors.  Here  his  worth  and  merit 
soon  became  known.  He  was  shortly  afterward  ap¬ 
pointed  bishop  of  Imola,  then  archbishop,  next  cardi¬ 
nal,  and  now  he  had  been  elected  pope  at  the  age 
of  fifty-four  years! — a  circumstance  almost  unprece¬ 
dented  in  the  annals  of  the  sacred  college.  The  popu¬ 
larity  of  the  new  pontiff  was  still  more  apparent  on 
the  day  of  his  coronation.  On  that  morning,  his  name 
was  repeated  with  the  wildest,  enthusiasm  by  the  vast 
masses  of  people  who  thronged  the  streets  to  witness 
the  solemnities  of  the  day.  The  enthusiasm  of  the 
Romans  did  not  end  with  these  splendid  and  solemn 


pius  rx. 


367 


ceremonies  of  the  coronation.  All  men  spoke  of  Pins 
IX.  as  being  the  dispenser  of  no  empty  blessing;  but 
that  he  came  to  bear  liberty  to  the  nations,  redress  to 
the  wronged,  and  consolation  to  the  afflicted.  Such, 
truly,  seemed  to  be  his  ambition. 

During  the  first  two  years  of  his  pontificate,  many 
deeds  of  goodness  and  of  mercy  crowned  his  life. 
Wheresoever  misery  appeared  among  the  Romans, 
there  also  was  Pius  IX.  to  be  found,  lending  his  best 
endeavors  to  relieve  or  allay  it.  On  one  occasion, 
when  a  certain  district  near  Rome  was  deluged  by  the 
overflowing  of  the  Tiber,  so  that  the  wretched  inhabi¬ 
tants  were  flooded  in  their  dwellings,  and  they  them¬ 
selves  exposed  to  the  complicated  miseries  of  want, 
and  of  exposure  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather, 
tidings  of  their  misfortune  reached  the  pontiff’s  ear. 
Not  content  with  sending  some  aid  to  the  sufferers,  he 
resolved  to  inspect  their  condition  himself,  and  mount¬ 
ing  his  horse,  rode  off  briskly  to  the  scene  of  distress, 
followed  by  the  cardinals,  who,  accustomed  only  to 
lounge  luxuriously  in  their  coaches,  inwardly  cursed 
the  active  benevolence  of  their  new  pope,  which  would 
fiot  suffer  him  to  indulge  in  lazy  benevolence.  Pius 
IX.,  on  his  accession  to  the  papal  chair,  found  himself 
placed  in  circumstances  so  intricate  and  perplexing, 
that  it  would  have  required  the  highest  genius  to  di¬ 
rect  them  to  a  happy  issue.  By  nature  benevolent 
and  firm,  with  a  strong  sense  of  justice,  possessing  an 
intelligent  and  cultivated  mind,  he  longed  to  give  free¬ 
dom  to  his  people,  and  to  ameliorate  their  condition, 
morally  as  well  as  physically.  At  the  same  time,  his 
attachment  to  the  church  was  ardent  and  sincere  ;  and 


3GS  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 

while  he  was  full  of  indulgence  toward  his  people,  he 
was  inflexible  in  his  reform  of  ecclesiastical  abuses, 
and  was  the  practical  opponent  of  all  priestly  tyranny. 
Many  anecdotes,  corroborative  of  this  assertion,  have 
been  afloat  in  the  world.  We  will  relate  but  one, 
which  has  reached  us  from  an  authentic  source.  A 
rich  Italian  noble,  desiring  in  his  old  age  to  atone  for 
the  sins  of  his  youth,  was  advised  by  his  confessor  to 
bestow  the  bulk  of  his  property  on  the  church.  lie 
had  two  nephews,  who  expected  to  inherit  his  fortune, 
but,  swayed  by  priestly  counsel,  he  assigned  to  each 
of  them  only  a  small  annuity,  and  made  a  will,  dis¬ 
posing  of  his  vast  wealth  in  favor  of  the  priest  who 
should  chance  to  say  the  first  mass  for  his  soul  on  the 
day  of  his  funeral.  This  will  was  safely  deposited  with 
the  proto-notary  of  the  Holy  See.  The  nobleman  soon 
afterward  died,  and  the  proto-notary,  on  opening  his 
will,  immediately  communicated  its  contents  to  the 
sovereign  pontift'.  It  was  late  at  night  when  this  news 
reached  him  ;  but  the  following  morning  he  rose  before 
the  dawn,  hastened  to  the  chapel  where  the  funeral 
rites  were  to  be  formed,  ordered  the  doors  to  be  opened, 
and  offered  immediately  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass. 
Having  thus  constituted  himself  the  universal  legatee, 
the  holy  father  at  once  sent  for  the  nephews  of  the 
deceased,  and  yielded  into  their  hands  the  whole  of 
their  uncle’s  fortune. 

The  letter  of  a  distinguished  Italian  refugee,  dated 
from  Rome,  in  January,  1847,  just  after  an  interview 
with  the  jK>pe,  of  whose  benignity  and  good  intentions 
he  speaks  with  enthusiasm,  thus  describes  His  first  im¬ 
pressions  of  Pius  IX. :  —  “I  think  the  pope  is  a  rare 


PIUS  IX. 


369 


and  an  evangelical  man.  I  found  as  much  facility  in 
expressing  my  opinions  to  him  as  if  he  had  been  only 
my  equal.  We  spoke  long  on  the  political  condition 
of  the  country,  on  its  industrial  resources,  and  on  the 
liberty  of  the  press.  After  much  thoughtfulness  of 
aspect  and  manner,  he  approached  me  with  an  air  of 
confidence.  ‘  Son,  (said  he,)  I  cannot  totally  change 
the  form  of  government !  ’  ”  Here  was  the  seed  of  fu¬ 
ture  dissensions.  Pius  IX.  wyas  sincere  in  his  desire  to 
reform  civil  as  well  as  ecclesiastical  abuses,  but  he  was 
not  prepared  to  grant  the  institutions  which  were  de¬ 
sired  by  his  people.  Ilis  first  prepossessions  were  all 
in  favor  of  freedom  and  progress.  He  granted  liberty 
of  the  press,  and  became  quickly  alarmed  at  its  li¬ 
cense  :  he  appointed  a  civic  guard,  and  was  surprised 
to  find  that  its  ardor  could  not  he  confined  within  the 
limits  he  had  assigned  to  it;  he  named  a  council  con¬ 
sisting  chiefly  of  laymen,  who  were  to  assist  him  in 
the  administration  of  civil  affairs,  and  listened  with 
dismay  to  the  cries  for  a  representative  assembly,  who 
should  have  the  right  of  governing  the  country  as  well 
as  of  advising  its  chief. 

Whether  the  pope  was  unequal  to  the  task  now  as¬ 
signed  to  him,  of  guiding  the  vessel  of  St.  Peter  amid 
the  storms  of  a  revolutionary  period,  or  whether  the 
task  he  had  undertaken  was  one  too  difficult  for  the 
ablest  mortal  to  accomplish,  we  do  not  pretend  to  de¬ 
cide.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  early  in  the  year  1849, 
symptoms  of  reaction  began  to  appear.  The  Romans 
became  more  exacting,  and  their  sovereign  less  willing 
to  concede  the  privileges  they  desired.  The  appoint¬ 
ment  of  Rossi,  an  Italian  by  birth,  but  a  foreigner  by 
16* 


370 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


prejudice  as  well  as  habit,  to  the  post  of  prime  minis¬ 
ter,  exasperated  the  people,  and  diminished  the  pope’s 
popularity. 

Rossi  set  about  the  business  of  suppressing  the 
democratic  movement,  and  from  his  eminent  talents 
and  resolute  character  it  was  believed  that  he  would 
succeed.  His  avowed  hostility  to  the  people  caused 
him  to  be  regarded  with  hostility  in  turn,  and  finally, 
on  the  15th  November,  1849,  he  was  assassinated '  in 
the  street,  as  he  was  proceeding  to  open  the  Chambers. 
It  is  not  known  whether  this  act  was  the  result  of  a 
conspiracy,  or  of  a  sudden  impulse  on  the  part  of  the 
assassin.  The  plans  of  the  reactionary  party  were  de¬ 
ranged  by  the  death  of  their  leader,  while  the  smoul¬ 
dering  indignation  of  the  Roman  people  broke  out  in 
open  revolt.  The  next  day  they  surrounded  the  pon¬ 
tifical  palace  in  large  numbers,  demanding  of  the 
monarch  the  promulgation  and  full  adoption  of  Italian 
nationality  as  the  basis  of  his  policy,  together  with  the 
convocation  of  a  constituent  assembly  and  the  forma¬ 
tion  of  a  federal  compact  for  the  whole  Italian  penin¬ 
sula,  the  declaration  of  war  against  Austria,  and  the 
appointment  of  ministers  possessing  the  public  confi¬ 
dence.  To  these  demands  the  pope  first  replied  eva¬ 
sively,  and  then,  being  pressed  for  an  answer,  flatly 
refused.  This  was  followed  by  a  quarrel  between  one 
of  the  sentinels  and  the  people  near  him,  in  the  course 
of  which  the  sentinel  was  disarmed ;  the  guards  then 
closed  the  gates  of  the  palace  and  prepared  for  a  de¬ 
cided  resistance.  Demonstrations  were  made  of  a  de¬ 
sign  to  attack,  whereupon  they  fired  and  scattered  the 
as&ailants,  killing  a  few  of  them ;  but  the  number 


nus  ix. 


371 


increased,  and  returned  the  shots.  At  last  a  truce  was 
proclaimed,  and  another  deputation  admitted  to  the 
pope,  who  was  informed  that  if  the  resistance  were 
protracted,  the  palace  would  be  stormed  and  all  its 
occupants  except  himself  put  to  death.  Hereupon,  he 
yielded  so  far  as  to  appoint  the  ministry  required,  and 
the  multitude  quietly  dispersed  ;  nor  was  any  violence 
subsequently  offered  to  either  his  residence  or  his 
friends. 

Pius,  however,  refused  to  participate  in  the  action 
of  the  ministry  which  he  had  thus  appointed.  lie 
remained  in  Rome  eight  days  after  these  events,  and 
finally,  on  the  night  of  November  23d,  1848,  left  the 
city  and  went  to  Gaeta.  The  King  of  Naples  received 
him  with  great  satisfaction,  and  provided  for  his  enter¬ 
tainment  and  that  of  his  suite,  in  the  most  lavish 
manner.  It  was  a  great  triumph  for  him,  and  for  the 
whole  band  of  European  tyrants,  that  the  man  who 
had  set  the  revolution  on  foot  should  thus  come  to 
them  for  refuge,  after  having  recanted  all  his  former 
imprudent  liberality,  and  fled  from  his  capital  in  dis¬ 
guise,  by  night.  The  popular  movement,  they  rea¬ 
soned,  had  suffered  a  great  loss,  when  the  head  of  the 
church  became  arrayed  against  it. 

At  the  time  of  the  pope’s  flight,  the  electioneering 
campaign  was  being  prosecuted  in  France,  where  Cav- 
aignac  was  making  strenuous  efforts  to  defeat  Louis 
Napoleon.  Ileat  once  comprehended  that  the  position 
of  the  pope  might  be  turned  into  political  capital  fi>r 
himself,  and  lost  not  a  moment  in  taking  the  steps  ne¬ 
cessary  in  order  to  appear  to  catholic  voters,  the  special 
friend  of  the  pontiff.  An  eminent  diplomatist  was 


372 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON'  AND  JUS  TIMES. 


dispatched  to  solicit  his  Holiness  to  seek  a  refuge  in 
France,  and  the  minister  of  education  and  public  wor¬ 
ship  hurried  to  Marseilles  to  receive  the  expected  guest 
with  all  possible  honors.  The  maneuver  was,  however, 
unsuccessful ;  Pius  IX.  preferred  the  cordialities  of  the 
King  of  Naples  to  the  attractions  of  the  hero  of  June, 
and  the  election  resulted  in  Louis  Napoleon  becoming 
President,  and  in  the  defeat  of  Cavaignac. 

The  new  President  of  France  was  not  slow  to  per¬ 
ceive  that  his  own  aspirations  to  increased  power  would 
be  advanced  by  a  papal  alliance,  and  lost  no  time  in 
urging  the  French  Assembly  to  send  an  army  to  Rome. 
The  ostensible  purpose  of  the  proposed  expedition  was 
to  prevent  the  increase  of  Austrian  influence  in  Italy. 
Under  the  command  of  General  Oudinot,  an  army  was 
sent  to  Rome,  which,  after  a  campaign  of  several 
months,  succeeded  in  putting  down  the  new  republic 
and  in  restoring  the  pope  to  power.  The  French  army 
finally  entered  Rome,  which  was  stoutly  defended  by 
the  republican  government  —  freedom  was  crushed  — 
the  pope  was  reinstated.  But  Pius  IX.  entered  the 
“eternal  city”  a  changed  man.  The  honest  zeal  in 
behalf  of  reform  which  he  entertained  on  his  inaugura¬ 
tion  as  pope,  was  transmuted  into  an  embittered  and 
determined  support  of  absolutism.  The  blessings 
which  had  been  showered  upon  him  less  than  four 
years  previous,  by  a  grateful  people,  were  changed  to 
execrations.  He  entered  his  palace  stealthily  and  at 
night,  fearing  assassination  from  the  very  men  who 
so  recently  would  have  confronted  death  in  his  defense. 

May  31,  1850,  the  French  Assembly,  with  a  lack  of 
prudence  quite  incomprehensible,  adopted  a  law  which, 


PARTIES  IN  TIIE  ASSEMBLY. 


373 


while  it  weakened  their  own  popularity  with  the  peo¬ 
ple,  greatly  increased  the  strength  of  the  President. 
In  a  revision  of  the  electoral  law,  so  many  restrictions 
were  thrown  around  the  right  of  suffrage  that  no  less 
than  three  millions  of  voters  were  disfranchised.  The 
constitutionality  of  this  measure  was  doubtful,  while 
it  was  manifestly  impolitic. 

The  question  of  a  revision  of  the  constitution  was 
brought  before  the  Assembly  early  in  1851,  in  accord¬ 
ance  with  a  provision  of  the  constitution.  It  was  the 
occasion  of  some  very  exciting  and  stormy  debates. 
The  plans  and  wishes  of  parties  were  then  fully  de¬ 
veloped.  The  Ponapartists  desired  an  alteration  in 
only  a  single  point:  that  which  rendered  the  President 
ineligible  to  a  second  term  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
first.  The  monarchists  favored  a  revision,  for  they 
hoped  to  effect  an  entire  abolition  of  the  republican 
constitution,  and  the  establishment  of  a  monarchy  — 
one  party  being  eager  for  the  restoration  of  the  elder 
branch  of  the  Bourbons,  the  other  for  the  elevation  of 
the  heir  of  Louis  Philippe.  The  republicans,  who  con¬ 
stituted  a  minority  in  the  Assembly,  united  in  oppos¬ 
ing  a  revision.  Defective  as  they  felt  the  constitution 
to  be,  they  feared  that  republican  institutions  would  be 
endangered  by  any  alteration  at  that  time.  The  de¬ 
bates  in  the  Assembly  on  the  subject  increased  in  bit¬ 
terness  and  acrimony  from  day  to  day,  sometimes 
hardly  stopping  short  of  personal  violence.  In  July, 
1851,  a  vote  was  taken  on  the  question  of  a  revision. 
The  whole  number  of  votes  cast  was  724  ;  of  these  44G 
were  in  favor  of  revision,  and  278  against  it.  Three- 
fourths  of  the  votes  cast  wTas  the  number  constitutionally 


374:  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  JUS  TIMES. 

required  to  carry  the  proposition  ;  so  that  it  failed  by 
nearly  a  hundred  votes.  By  a  rule  of  the  Assembly 
the  subject  could  not  again  be  introduced  until  after 
the  expiration  of  three  months. 

Early  in  November,  Louis  Napoleon,  (who  had  fa¬ 
vored  a  revision  of  the  constitution  in  the  expectation 
that  his  ineligibility  to  a  re-election  would  be  removed,) 
sent  his  annual  message  to  the  Assembly.  It  opened 
by  proclaiming  the  continued  pi’eservation  of  peace, 
but  expressed  the  apprehension  that  this  tranquillity 
was  in  much  danger.  A  vast  conspiracy,  the  Presi¬ 
dent  said,  had  been  organizing  throughout  Europe,  for 
the  overthrow  of  existing  governments.  The  approach¬ 
ing  election  in  France,  he  suggested  as  the  period  fixed 
upon  for  the  outbreak  of  the  revolutionary  movement, 
lie  expressed  his  reliance  upon  the  patriotism  of  the 
Assembly  to  save  France  from  these  perils.  The  best 
means  of  doing  this,  he  urged,  was  to  satisfy  the  legiti¬ 
mate  wants  of  the  French  people,  and  to  put  down,  on 
their  first  appearance,  all  attacks  on  religion,  morality, 
or  society.  “  Well,  then,  (proceeds  the  President,)  I 
have  asked  myself  whether,  in  presence  of  the  madness 
of  passions,  the  confusion  of  doctrines,  the  division  of 
parties  —  when  every  thing  is  leaguing  together  to  de¬ 
prive  justice,  morality,  and  authority  of  their  last 
prestige  —  whether,  I  say,  we  ought  to  allow  the  only 
principle  to  be  shaken  which,  in  the  midst  of  the  gen¬ 
eral  chaos,  Providence  has  left  upstanding  as  our  ral¬ 
lying  point?  When  universal  suffrage  has  again 
upraised  the  social  edifice,  when  it  has  substituted  a 
right  for  a  revolutionary  act,  ought  its  base  to  be  any 
longer  narrowed?  When  pew  powers  shall  come  to 


LOUIS  napoleon’s  message. 


375 


preside  over  the  destinies  of  the  country,  is  it  not  to 
compromise  their  stability  in  advance  to  leave  a  pre¬ 
text  for  discussing  their  origin  or  doubting  their  legiti¬ 
macy?  No  doubt  on  this  subject  can  be  entertained  ; 
and  without  for  a  moment  departing  from  the  policy 
of  order  which  I  have  always  pursued,  I  have  seen 
myself,  to  my  deep  regret,  obliged  to  separate  myself 
from  a  ministry  which  possessed  my  full  confidence 
and  esteem,  to  choose  another,  composed  also  of  hon¬ 
orable  men,  known  for  their  conservative  opinions,  but 
who  are  willing  to  admit  the  necessity  of  re-establish¬ 
ing  universal  suffrage  on  the  largest  possible  base.  In 
consequence,  there  will  be  presented  to  you  a  bill  to 
restore  that  principle  in  all  its  plenitude,  in  preserving 
Buch  parts  of  the  law  of  May  31  as  free  universal  suf¬ 
frage  from  its  impure  elements,  and  render  its  applica¬ 
tion  more  just  and  more  regular.”  The  law  of  May 
31,  he  said,  disfranchised  three  millions  of  electors, 
most  of  whom  were  peaceable  inhabitants  of  the  coun¬ 
try.  It  gave  an  impetus  to  the  revolutionary  spirit  by 
denying  to  the  people  their  just  rights.  He  concluded 
by  saying,  that,  “To  restore  universal  suffrage  is  to 
deprive  civil  war  of  its  flag,  and  the  opposition  of  their 
last  argument ;  it  is  to  afford  to  France  an  opportunity 
of  giving  herself  institutions  which  will  insure  her  re¬ 
pose  ;  it  will  be  to  bestow  on  the  powers  to  come  that 
moral  repose  which  exists  only  when  resting  on  a  con¬ 
secrated  principle  and  an  incontestable  authority.” 

Immediately  after  the  reading  of  tne  message,  one 
of  the  ministry  proposed  the  repeal  of  the  law  re¬ 
stricting  the  right  of  suffrage,  and  the  re-establishment 
of  the  electoral  law  of  March  15,  1849,  by  which  all 


370 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


citizens  twenty-one  years  old,  and  having  resided  six 
months  in  the  commune,  (or  electoral  district,)  were  de¬ 
clared  electors.  The  minister,  on  presenting  this  law, 
demanded  its  immediate  consideration.  A  warm  de¬ 
bate  followed,  and  the  demand  was  rejected  by  a  large 
majority.  The  bill  was  then  referred  to  a  committee, 
which  reported  the  succeeding  week.  The  report  was 
very  explicit  against  universal  suffrage,  and  closed  by 
advising  that  the  bill  be  rejected  at  once,  without  pas¬ 
sing  even  to  the  second  reading.  This  was  carried  by 
a  vote  of  355  to  348  —  a  majority  of  seven  against  the 
government.  During  the  debate,  one  of  the  friends  of 
Louis  Napoleon  asked,  “Is  it  not  probable  that  the 
disfranchised  electors  will  present  themselves  at  the 
elections  in  May,  1852,  and  declare  their  determina¬ 
tion  to  vote  ?  ”  This  was  regarded  as  an  invitation  to 
the  people  to  pursue  such  a  course,  and  created  much 
excitement. 

On  the  25th  of  November,  the  President  made  a 
brief  but  significant  speech,  on  distributing  to  the 
manufacturers  the  prizes  they  had  won  by  the  articles 
exhibited  at  the  World’s  Exhibition.  After  expressing 
his  satisfaction  at  the  proofs  of  French  genius  and  skill 
which  had  been  afforded  at  the  Exhibition,  he  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  speak  of  the  check  upon  industry  which  the 
continued  machinations  of  evil  men  in  France  could 
not  fail  to  create.  On  the  one  hand  France  was  dis¬ 
turbed  by  demagogical  ideas,  and  on  the  other  by 
monarchical  hallucinations.  The  former  disseminate 
everywhere  error  and  falsehood.  “Disquietude  goes 
before  them,  and  deception  follows  them,  while  the 
resources  employed  in  repressing  them  are  so  much 


THE  CRISIS. 


377 


loss  to  the  most  pressing  ameliorations  and  to  the  relief 
of  misery.  The  schemes  of  monarchists  impede  all 
progress,  all  serious  labor;  for  in  place  of  an  advance, 
the  country  is  forced  to  have  recourse  to  a  struggle. 
The  efforts  of  both,  however,  will  be  in  vain.”  And 
the  President  exhorted  the  manufacturers  to  continue 
their  labors.  “Undertake  them  without  fear,  for  they 
will  prevent  the  want  of  occupation  during  the  winter. 
Do  not  dread  the  future  ;  tranquillity  will  be  main¬ 
tained,  come  what  may.  A  government  which  relies 
for  support  on  the  entire  mass  of  the  nation,  which  has 
no  other  motive  of  action  than  the  public  good,  and 
which  is  animated  by  that  ardent  faith  which  is  a  sure 
guide  even  through  a  space  in  which  there  is  no  path 
traced :  that  government,  I  say,  will  know  how  to  fulfill 
its  mission,  for  it  has  in  it  that  right  which  comes  from 
the  people,  and  that  force  which  comes  from  God.” 
This  speech  created  a  profound  sensation,  and  elicited 
general  discussion.  The  “  Constitutionnel,”  the  organ 
of  Louis  Napoleon,  added  to  the  excitement  by  an  ar¬ 
ticle  proclaiming  the  existence  of  a  monarchical  con¬ 
spiracy,  and  menacing  that  section  of  the  Assembly 
with  instant  seizure  and  imprisonment  upon  the  first 
movement  toward  the  accomplishment  of  their  plans. 

The  orisis  was  fast  approaching.  A  law  was  pro¬ 
posed  authorizing  the  impeachment  of  the  President  in 
case  he  should  seek  a  re-election  in  violation  of  the 
provisions  of  the  constitution.  In  addition  to  this 
measure,  it  was  rumored  through  Paris,  that  a  decree 
of  accusation  would  be  brought  against  Louis  Na¬ 
poleon,  charging  him  with  treason,  and  ordering  his 
arrest.  This  brought  on  the  final  struggle  between  the 


378 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


President  and  the  Assembly.  He  had  already  mado 
preparations  for  a  coup  d'etat .*  This  he  had  done 
with  the  utmost  secrecy,  no  one  being  in  his  confi¬ 
dence,  until  the  hour  of  putting  his  plans  into  execu¬ 
tion  had  arrived.  In  the  mean  time,  he  appeared 
perfectly  unconcerned,  and  seemed  more  deeply  en¬ 
gaged  in  the  gayeties  of  social  life  than  in  political 
intrigues.  On  the  night  of  Monday,  December  1st,  he 
entertained  a  large  party  at  his  palace,  and  was 
unusually  attentive  to  his  guests  until  a  late  hour. 

On  the  morning  of  the  2d  of  December,  1851,  the 
inhabitants  of  Paris  awoke  to  find  the  city  occupied 
by  troops,  and  a  decree  by  the  President,  posted  on 
every  wall,  announcing  the  dissolution  of  the  National 
Assembly,  the  restoration  of  universal  suffrage,  and 
the  establishment  of  martial  law  throughout  Paris. 
There  were  also  proclamations  addressed  to  the  people 
and  to  the  army.  The  first  of  these  was  as  follows : 

“APPEAL  TO  THE  PEOPLE. 

“Frenchmen, — The  present  situation  cannot  last 
much  longer.  Each  day  the  condition  of  the  country 
becomes  worse.  The  Assembly,  which  ought  to  be  the 
firmest  supporter  of  order,  has  become  a  theater  of 
plots.  The  patriotism  of  300  of  its  members  could  not 
arrest  its  fatal  tendencies.  In  place  of  making  laws 
for  the  general  interest  of  the  people,  it  was  forging 
arms  for  civil  war.  It  attacked  the  power  I  hold  di¬ 
rectly  from  the  people ;  it  encouraged  every  evil  pas¬ 
sion  ;  it  endangered  the  repose  of  France.  I  have 
dissolved  it,  and  I  make  the  whole  people  judge  be¬ 
tween  me  and  it.  The  constitution,  as  you  know,  had 
been  made  with  the  object  of  weakening  beforehand 

*  A  sudden  and  decisive  measure  in  politics,  sometimes,  as  in  the 
present  instance,  of  an  illegal  and  revolutionary  character,  and  justified 
on  the  ground  of  extreme  necessity. 


APPEAL  TO  THE  PEOPLE. 


379 


the  powers  you  intrusted  to  me.  Six  millions  of  votes 
were  a  striking  protest  against  it,  and  yet  I  have  faith¬ 
fully  observed  it.  Provocations,  calumnies,  outrages, 
found  me  passive.  But  now  that  the  fundamental  part 
is  no  longer  respected  by  those  who  incessantly  invoke 
it,  and  the  men  who  have  already  destroyed  two  mon¬ 
archies  wish  to  tie  up  my  hands  in  order  to  overthrow 
the  republic,  my  duty  is  to  baffle  their  perfidious  pro¬ 
jects,  to  maintain  the  republic  and  to  save  the  country 
by  appealing  to  the  solemn  judgments  of  the  only 
sovereign  I  recognize  in  France  —  the  people. 

“I,  then,  make  a  loyal  appeal  to  the  entire  nation  ; 
and  I  say  to  you,  if  you  wish  to  continue  this  state  of 
disquietude  and  maladministration  that  degrades  you 
and  endangers  the  future  —  choose  another  person  in 
•  my  place,  for  I  no  longer  wish  for  a  place  which  is 
powerless  for  good,  but  which  makes  me  responsible 
for  acts  that  I  cannot  hinder,  and  chains  me  to  the  helm 
when  I  see  the  vessel  rushing  into  the  abyss !  If,  on 
the  contrary,  you  have  still  confidence  in  me,  give  me 
the  means  of  accomplishing  the  grand  mission  I  hold 
from  you.  That  mission  consists  in  closing  the  era  of 
revolution,  in  satisfying  the  legitimate  wants  of  the 
people,  and  in  protecting  them  against  subversive  pas¬ 
sions.  It  consists,  especially,  in  creating  institutions 
which  survive  men,  and  which  are  the  foundation  on 
which  something  durable  is  based.” 

“Persuaded,”  said  the  President,  in  another  procla¬ 
mation,  “that  the  instability  of  the  government  and  the 
preponderance  of  a  single  Assembly,  are  permanent 
causes  of  trouble  and  disorder,  I  submit  to  your  suf¬ 
frages  the  following  fundamental  basis  of  a  constitu¬ 
tion  which  assemblies  will  develop  afterward  :  —  1.  A 
responsible  head,  named  for  ten  years.  2.  Ministers 
dependent  on  the  executive  power  alone.  3.  A  council 
of  state,  formed  of  the  most  eminent  men,  prepar¬ 
ing  the  laws  and  supporting  the  discussion  of  them 
before  the  legislative  body.  4.  A  legislative  body 


380 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  1IIS  TIMES. 


discussing  and  voting  laws,  named  by  universal  suffrage. 

5.  A  second  Assembly,  formed  of  all  the  illustrious  of 
the  country,  a  preponderating  power,  guardian  of  the 
fundamental  compact  and  of  public  liberties.  The 
system  created  by  the  First  Consul  at  the  commence¬ 
ment  of  the  century  has  already  given  to  France  repose 
and  prosperity ;  and  it  would  again  guarantee  them  to 
it.  Such  is  my  profound  conviction.  If  you  share  in 
it,  declare  it  by  your  suffrages.  If,  on  the  contrary, 
you  prefer  a  government  with  strength,  monarchical  or 
republican,  borrowed  from  I  know  not  what  past,  or 
from  some  chimerical  future,  reply  negatively.  Tims, 
then,  for  the  first  time  since  180i,  you  will  vote  with 
a  knowledge  of  what  you  are  doing,  in  knowing  well 
for  whom  and  for  what.  If  I  do  not  obtain  the  ma¬ 
jority  of  your  suffrages,  I  will  then  call  for  the  meeting 
of  a  new  Assembly,  and  I  will  give  up  the  charge 
which  I  have  received  from  you.  But  if  you  believe 
that  the  cause  of  which  my  name  is  the  symbol  —  that 
is  to  say,  France  regenerated  by  the  Revolution  of ’89, 
and  organized  by  the  Emperor — is  still  your  own,  pro¬ 
claim  it  by  consecrating  the  powers  which  I  ask  from 
you.  Then  France  and  Europe  will  be  preserved  from 
anarchy,  obstacles  will  be  removed,  rivalries  will  have 
disappeared,  for  all  will  respect,  in  the  decision  of  the 
people,  the  decree  of  Providence. — Given  at  the  palace 
of  the  Elysees,  this  second  day  of  December,  1851.” 

The  events  of  the  preceding  night  gradually  became 
known  to  the  astonished  citizens  of  Paris.  At  an 
early  hour  in  the  morning,  many  of  the  leading  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  Assembly  had  been  arrested  and  sent  to 
prison.  The  President’s  proclamations,  which  had 


TIIE  COUP  d’etat. 


381 


been  privately  printed,  were  posted  on  the  walls. 
About  130,000  troops  — those  on  whom  Louis  Napo¬ 
leon  could  implicitly  rely  —  had  been  silently  con¬ 
centrated  near  Paris,  and  now  occupied  positions 
which  commanded  almost  the  entire  city.  So  secretly 
had  the  measures  of  the  usurper  been  concerted  and 
carried  into  execution,  that  his  purposes  were  scarcely 
suspected  —  and  every  thing  had  been  so  admirably 
arranged,  every  contingency  had  been  provided  for 
with  such  consummate  ability,  that  none  of  the  plans 
of  Louis  Napoleon  failed.  So  quietly  were  all  things 
accomplished,  that  the  people  of  Paris  were  utterly 
ignorant  of  what  was  going  on.  They  awoke  to  find 
the  chief  members  of  the  National  Assembly  in  prison, 
and  Louis  Napoleon  absolute  dictator  of  France.  Not 
a  man  was  left  of  sufficient  ability  and  popularity  to 
rally  the  people  against  this  sudden  and  extraordinary 
usurpation. 

The  official  account  of  the  arrest  of  some  of  the 
principal  persons  whose  influence  was  feared  by  Louis 
Napoleon,  is  highly  interesting,  as  it  brings  out  some 
of  their  most  striking  points  of  character.  The  details 
generally  are  supposed  to  be  quite  accurate.  The  per¬ 
son  whose  arrest  was  deemed  most  important  of  all 
to  the  President,  was  General  Changarnier,  who  pos¬ 
sessed,  in  an  eminent  degree,  the  confidence  and 
affection  of  the  army.  The  affair  was  intrusted  to 
a  commissary  of  police  in  whom  Louis  Napoleon  had 
implicit  confidence.  This  officer  and  his  followers 
forcibly  entered  the  house  where  the  general  resided, 
and  repaired  to  his  bed-room.  As  the  door  was  burst 
open,  the  general  was  seen  standing  with  a  loaded 


382 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


pistol  in  each  hand  ;  the  commissary  seized  hold  of  his 
arms,  and  struck  down  his  weapons,  saying,  “  What 
are  you  about,  general  ?  Your  life  is  in  no  danger; 
wherefore  defend  it?”  The  general  remained  calm, 
surrendered  his  pistols,  and  said,  “I  am  at  your 
orders  ;  I  am  going  to  dress  myself.”  The  general 
was  dressed  by  his  servant,  and  observed  to  the  com¬ 
missary,  “  I  know  M.  de  Maupas  to  be  a  gentleman  ; 
have  the  kindness  to  tell  him  that  I  trust  to  his  cour¬ 
tesy  not  to  deprive  me  of  my  domestic,  whose  services 
are  indispensable  to  me.”  This  request  was  at  once 
acceded  to.  During  the  journey,  and  while  in  the 
carriage,  General  Changarnier  discoursed  of  the  events 
of  the  day.  “  The  President’s  re-election,”  said  he, 
“  was  certain  ;  there  was  no  necessity  for  him  to  have 
recourse  to  a  coup  d'etat ;  he  is  giving  himself  much 
needless  trouble.”  And  he  subsequently  added,  “When 
the  President  embarks  in  a  foreign  war,  he  will  be  glad 
to  seek  me  out,  and  intrust  me  with  the  command  of 
an  army.” 

The  arrest  of  General  Cavaignac  was  also  peaceably 
effected.  The  commissary  rung  at  the  door  of  his 
apartment,  and  inquired  for  the  general.  At  first  a 
female  voice  replied,  “  He  is  not  within.”  A  moment 
afterward  the  commissary  rung  again  ;  and  a  man’s 
voice  inquired,  “Who’s  there?”  “Commissary  of 
police  !  Open  in  the  name  of  the  law.”  “  I  shall  not 
open  !  ”  “  Then,  general,  I  shall  force  the  door.”  The 
general  then  opened  it  himself.  The  commissary  said 
to  him,  “  General,  you  are  my  prisoner !  Resistance 
is  useless  ;  I  have  taken  all  due  measures.  I  have 
been  ordered  to  make  sure  of  your  person  by  virtue 


THE  ARRESTS. 


383 


of  a  warrant  which  I  will  read  to  you.”  “It  is  need¬ 
less!”  The  general  showed  signs  of  exasperation. 
He  smote  on  a  marble  table,  and  used  violent  ex¬ 
pressions.  On  the  commissary  trying  to  calm  him, 
the  general  eyed  him  steadily,  and  said,  “  What  do 
you  mean  by  arresting  me?  Give  me  your  names.” 
“We  will  not  conceal  them  from  you,  general  ;  but 
this  is  not  the  time.  You  must  dress  yourself,  and 
follow  us.”  The  general  became  tranquil,  and  said, 
“  Very  well,  sir,  I  am  ready  to  follow  you  ;  only  give 
me  time  to  dress  ;  send  out  your  people.”  He  asked 
permission  to  write,  and  leave  was  given  him  to  do  so. 
When  the  general  was  ready,  he  said  to  the  commis¬ 
sary,  “  I  have  only  one  favor  to  ask  you — it  is,  to 
allow  me  to  go  to  my  place  of  destination  with  you 
only.”  The  commissary  consented.  During  the  jour¬ 
ney,  the  general  was  much  engaged  in  thought,  and  he 
only  spoke  once.  “Am  I  the  only  one  arrested?” 
“General,  I  am  not  called  on  to  reply  to  that  question.” 
“Where  are  you  taking  me  to !  ”  “  To  the  Mazas 

prison.” 

General  Lamoriciere  was  also  taken  by  surprise. 
He  first  took  the  police  officer  for  a  thief,  but  being 
assured  of  the  nature  of  the  visitation,  he  submitted. 
The  officer  said  to  him  —  “General,  I  have  received 
orders  from  the  prefect  of  police  to  treat  you  with  all 
possible  deference.  I  am,  accordingly,  desirous  to 
6how  you  every  attention  in  my  power ;  and  if  you 
will  but  give  me  your  word  of  honor  that  you  will 
make  no  attempt  to  escape,  I  shall  consider  it  my  duty 
to  place  you  in  a  private  carriage,  with  none  but  my¬ 
self  to  keep  watch  upon  you.”  “I  give  you  nothing,  I 


334 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


answer  for  nothing.  Deal  with  me  as  you  will.”  Ho 
was  thereupon  conducted  to  a  hackney-coach,  with  an 
escort  of  police.  As  they  reached  the  post  of  the 
legion  of  honor,  the  general  put  his  head  out  of  the 
window  and  attempted  to  harangue  the  troops.  The 
commissary  did  not  give  him  time  to  utter  a  single 
word,  but  intimated  to  him  that  he  should  feel  himself 
called  upon  to  resort  to  rigorous  measures  did  he  repeat 
his  attempt.  The  general  answered,  “Act  as  you 
please.”  On  his  arrival  at  the  Mazas  prison,  the  gen¬ 
eral  displayed  more  calmness.  He  requested  the  com¬ 
missary  not  to  seize  his  valuable  weapons,  and  to  send 
him  some  cigars  and  the  history  of  the  French  Revolu¬ 
tion.  The  commissary  complied  with  his  request. 

General  Leflo  took  matters  less  coolly.  He  said  to 
the  commissary,  “Hapoleon  wishes  to  make  a  coup  d ’ 
ctat!  'We’ll  shoot  him  at  Vincennes.  As  for  yon, 
we’ll  shoot  you  along  with  him.”  The  commissary 
replied  that  resistance  was  out  of  the  question ;  that 
a  state  of  siege  was  the  order  of  the  day,  and  that  he 
knew  full  well  the  consequences  of  such  a  crisis. 

Colonel  Chanas,  another  of  those  chosen  as  the  first 
victims  of  the  President’s  power,  because  they  were  most 
feared  by  him,  at  first  refused  admission  to  the  com¬ 
missary  selected  to  arrest  him,  but  seeing  that  his  door 
was  about  to  be  beaten  down,  he  exclaimed,  “Hold! 
I’ll  open.”  The  commissary  told  him  of  the  warrant 
against  him.  The  colonel  said,  “I  foresaw  it  right 
well  ;  I  expected  as  much.  Escape  was  easy,  but  I 
would  not  quit  my  post.  I  thought  that  this  would 
have  taken  place  two  days  earlier,  and  thinking  so  I 
had  loaded  my  pistol ;  but  I  have  withdrawn  the 


THE  ARRESTS. 


385 


charge:”  and  he  pointed  to  a  double-barreled  pistol 
which  lay  on  a  piece  of  furniture.  The  commissary  at 
once  took  possession  of  it.  “Had  you  come  on  that 
day,  (said  the  colonel,)  I  would  have  blown  your  brains 
out.”  He  entered  the  carriage  without  ofierin<r  the 
slightest  resistance.  During  the  journey  he  requested 
to  know  whither  he  was  being  conducted.  As  the 
commissary  hesitated  in  his  reply,  he  said,  “Are  you 
taking  me  to  be  shot?”  He  was  informed  that  his 
destination  was  the  Mazas  prison. 

Thiers,  always  so  watchful  where  his  own  interests 
are  concerned,  was  found  in  his  bed,  fast  asleep.  The 
commissary  drew  aside  the  curtains  of  crimson  damask, 
with  white  muslin  lining,  woke  up  Thiers,  and  in¬ 
formed  him  of  his  calling  and  commission.  Thiers 
started  up  in  bed,  raised  his  hand  to  his  eyes,  over 
which  a  white  cotton  cap  was  drawn,  and  said,  “What 
is  the  matter?”  “I  am  about  to  search  your  apart¬ 
ments  ;  but  compose  yourself,  no  harm  will  be  done  to 
you,  your  life  is  in  no  danger.”  This  last  assurance 
appeared  very  necessary,  inasmuch  as  Thiers  exhibited 
great  consternation.  “But  what  mean  you  to  do? 
Do  you  know  that  I  am  a  representative?”  “Yes,  but 
I  cannot  discuss  the  point  with  you,  I  am  merely  to 
obey  orders.”  “But  what  you  are  now  doing  may  cost 
you  your  head.”  “Nothing  shall  hinder  me  from  ac¬ 
complishing  my  duty.”  “  But  you  are  making  a  coup 
d'  etatf  ”  “  I  cannot  answer  your  arguments,  but  have 

the  kindness  to  rise.”  “Do  you  know  whether  I  am 
the  only  one  in  this  present  predicament? — are  my 
colleagues  similarly  treated ?”  “I  do  not  know,  sir.” 
Thiers  rose  and  slowly  dressed  himself,  rejecting  the 

IT 


8S6 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HI3  TIMES, 


assistance  of  the  agents.  Suddenly  he  said  to  ths 
commissary,  “Supposing,  sir,  that  I  were  to  blow  your 
brains  out?”  “I  believe  you  incapable  of  such  an  act, 
Monsieur  Thiers  ;  but  at  all  events  I  have  taken  every 
precaution ;  I  am  at  no  loss  for  the  means  to  prevent 
the  execution  of  your  threat.”  “But  do  you  know 
what  law  is?  Are  you  aware  that  you  are  violating  the 
constitution?”  “I  have  received  no  instructions  to 
hold  an  argument  with  you  ;  besides,  you  are  by  far 
my  superior  in  intellect.  All  I  have  to  do  is  to  act  in 
obedience  to  my  orders,  as  I  should  have  acted  in  obe¬ 
dience  to  yours  when  you  were  minister  for  the  home 
department.”  The  search  made  in  Thiers’  study  led  to 
the  discovery  of  no  political  correspondence.  Upon 
the  commissary  expressing  his  surprise  at  this  circum¬ 
stance,  Thiers  replied  that  he  had  for  some  consid¬ 
erable  period  been  in  the  habit  of  forwarding  his 
political  correspondence  to  England,  and  that  nothing 
would  be  found  on  his  premises.  The  versatile  states¬ 
man,  after  a  brief  detention,  was  hurried  out  of  the 
country,  instead  of  being  sent  to  prison  with  his 
companions. 

When  the  members  of  the  National  Assembly 
learned  that  many  of  their  colleagues  had  been  ar¬ 
rested,  they  hurried  to  the  halls  of  legislation.  These 
they  found  surrounded  by  troops  who  obstructed  their 
entrance.  They  then  withdrew  to  another  part  of  the 
city,  where,  to  the  number  of  three  hundred,  they 
organized  the  Assembly,  and  adopted  the  following 
decree  with  almost  entire  unanimity  : 

“In  pursuance  of  article  6S  of  the  constitution,  viz: 

“‘The  President  of  the  republic,  the  ministers,  the 


DECREE  OF  THE  NATIONAL  ASSEMBLY. 


387 


agents,  and  depositaries  of  public  authority,  are  re¬ 
sponsible,  each  in  what  concerns  themselves  respec¬ 
tively,  for  all  the  acts  of  the  government  and  the 
administration.  Any  measure  by  which  the  President 
of  the  republic  dissolves  the  National  Assembly,  pro¬ 
rogues  it,  or  places  obstacles  in  the  exercise  of  its 
powers,  is  a  crime  of  high  treason.  By  this  act  merely, 
the  President  is  deprived  of  all  authority,  the  citizens 
are  bound  to  withhold  their  obedience,  the  executive 
power  passes  in  full  right  to  the  National  Assembly. 
The  judges  of  the  high  court  of  justice  will  meet  imme¬ 
diately,  under  pain  of  forfeiture  ;  thqy  will  convoke 
the  juries  in  the  place  which  they  will  select,  to  pro¬ 
ceed  to  the  judgment  of  the  President  and  his'  accom¬ 
plices  ;  they  will  nominate  the  magistrates  charged  to 
fulfill  the  duties  of  public  ministers;’  — 

“  And  seeing  that  the  National  Assembly  is  pre¬ 
vented  by  violence  from  exercising  its  powers,  it 
decrees  as  follows,  viz. : 

“Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte  is  deprived  of  all  au¬ 
thority  as  President  of  the  Republic.  The  citizens  are 
enjoined  to  withhold  their  obedience.  The  executive 
power  has  passed  in  full  right  to  the  National  Assem¬ 
bly.  The  judges  of  the  high  court  of  justice  are  en¬ 
joined  to  meet  immediately  under  pain  of  forfeiture, 
to  proceed  to  the  judgment  of  the  President  and  his 
accomplices  ;  consequently,  all  the  officers  and  func¬ 
tionaries  of  power  and  of  public  authority  are  bound 
to  obey  all  requisitions  made  in  the  name  of  the  Na¬ 
tional  Assembly,  under  pain  of  forfeiture  and  of  high 
treason.  —  Done  and  decreed  unanimously  in  public 
sitting,  this  2d  of  December,  1851.” 

This  decree  received  the  signature  of  three  hundred 
members  of  the  Assembly.  Another  was  adopted,  ap¬ 
pointing  General  Oudinot  commander  of  the  public 
forces.  These  decrees  had  scarcely  been  signed  by  all 
the  members  present,  and  deposited  in  a  place  of 
safety,  when  a  band  of  soldiers,  headed  by  their  offi¬ 
cers,  sword  in  hand,  appeared  at  the  door,  without, 


388 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


however,  daring  to  enter  the  apartment.  The  Assem¬ 
bly  awaited  them  in  perfect  silence.  The  president 
alone  raised  his  voice,  read  the  decrees  which  had  just 
been  passed,  to  the  soldiers,  and  ordered  them  to  retire. 
They  hesitated.  The  officers,  pale  and  undecided,  de¬ 
clared  they  would  go  for  further  orders.  They  retired, 
contenting  themselves  with  blockading  the  passages 
leading  to  the  apartment.  The  Assembly,  not  being 
able  to  go  out,  ordered  the  windows  to  be  opened,  and 
caused  the  decrees  to  be  read  to  the  people  and  the 
troops  in  the  street  below,  especially  that  decree  which, 
in  pursuance  of  the  68th  article  of  the  constitution, 
pronounced  the  deposition  and  impeachment  of  Louis 
Napoleon.  Soon,  however,  the  soldiers  re-appeared  at 
the  door,  preceded  this  time  by  two  police  officers. 
These  men,  amid  the  unbroken  silence  of  the  Assem¬ 
bly,  summoned  the  representatives  to  disperse.  The 
president  ordered  the  officers  to  retire.  One  was  agi¬ 
tated,  and  faltered  ;  the  other  broke  out  in  invectives. 
The  president  said  to  him,  “Sir,  we  are  here  the  law¬ 
ful  authority,  and  sole  representatives  of  law  and  of 
right.  We  will  not  disperse.  Seize  us,  and  convey  us 
to  prison.”  “All,  all !”  exclaimed  the  members  of  the 
Assembly.  After  much  hesitation,  the  police  officers 
caused  the  two  presidents  to  be  seized  by  the  collar. 
The  whole  body  then  rose,  and  arm-in-arm,  two-and- 
two,  they  followed  the  presidents,  and  all  were  marched 
off  through  the  streets,  to  the  various  prisons,  without 
knowing  whither  they  were  going. 

When  the  Assembly  was  thus  destroyed,  measures 
were  taken  to  disarm  the  power  of  the  press.  All  the 
offices  of  the  journals  were  occupied  by  the  military, 


BARRICADES. 


389 


and  none  of  the  journals,  except  the  government  or¬ 
gans,  were  allowed  to  appear.  During  the  whole  of 
this  day  the  people  remained  quiet  and  apparently  in¬ 
different,  and  there  was  so  little  alarm  that  even  the 
jewelers’  shops  remained  open  as  usual. 

On  the  following  morning,  Wednesday,  the  3d,  a 
decree  was  promulgated  regulating  the  proposed  elec¬ 
tion.  It  convoked  the  people  in  their  districts,  for  the 
14th  of  the  month,  to  reject  or  accept  the  following 
declaration:  —  “The  French  people  wills  the  mainte¬ 
nance  of  the  authority  of  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
and  delegates  to  him  the  powers  necessary  to  frame  a 
constitution  on  the  basis  proposed  in  his  proclamation 
of  the  2d  December.”  All  Frenchmen  aged  twenty 
one,  and  enjoying  their  civil  rights,  were  called  on  to 
vote.  The  period  of  voting  to  be  the  eight  days  end¬ 
ing  on  the  21st  of  December.  The  minister  of  war 
addressed  a  circular  to  the  generals  of  the  army  and 
the  chiefs  of  corps,  ordering  that  the  soldiers  were  to 
vote  for  the  election  of  a  president  within  forty-eight 
hours  from  the  receipt  of  the  circular.  A  provisional 
consultative  commission,  in  lieu  of  the  abolished 
council  of  state,  was  appointed,  embracing  eighty 
distinguished  members  of  the  late  National  Assembly. 

The  tranquillity  which  had  hitherto  prevailed  was 
first  interrupted  on  this  day.  A  member  of  the  late 
Assembly,  M.  Baudin,  appeared  on  horseback  in  the 
Bue  St.  Antoine,  followed  by  several  other  members, 
and  endeavored  to  excite  the  workmen  to  rise.  lie 
succeeded  in  getting  together  a  small  bodv,  who 
threw  up  two  slight  barricades.  Troops  were  instantly 
marched  against  them,  and.  after  a  brief  skirmish,  the 


390 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


barricades  were  taken,  Baudin  and  another  representa¬ 
tive  being  killed  on  the  spot,  and  several  of  their  fol¬ 
lowers  wounded.  Decrees  were  immediately  put  forth 
by  the  chief  of  police  and  the  minister  of  war,  declar¬ 
ing  that  every  person  taken  in  the  act  of  erecting  or 
defending  a  barricade,  or  bearing  arms,  should  suffer 
according  to  the  most  rigorous  laws  of  war.  Groups 
were  to  be  dispersed  by  the  armed  force  and  without 
previous  notice  ;  and  the  circulation  of  public  carriages 
was  prohibited.  During  AFednesday  night,  several 
representatives  passed  through  the  streets,  attempting 
to  address  the  people ;  but  they  were  everywhere  pre¬ 
vented.  The  body  of  one  of  the  representatives,  shot 
at  the  barricade  in  the  Rue  St.  Antoine,  was  put  on  a 
litter  and  carried  through  several  streets.  As  it  passed 
along,  causing  great  excitement  in  its  course,  the  bear¬ 
ers  were  met  by  troops,  and  turned  into  a  by-street. 
Here  there  was  such  resistance  that  the  troops  charged, 
and  fired  ;  and  two  of  the  men  carrying  the  corpse 
were  killed.  Proclamations  signed  by  various  persons, 
calling  on  the  people  to  fight  and  offering  to  lead  them, 
were  posted  in  a  multitude  of  places,  but  were  speedily 
observed  and  removed. 

Thursday,  the  4th,  opened  gloomily.  From  an  early 
hour  of  the  morning,  the  people  were  astir,  and  tem¬ 
porary  barricades  were  thrown  up  here  and  there,  but 
abandoned  on  the  appearance  of  the  troops,  whom  it 
appeared  to  be  the  wish  of  the  populace  to  harass. 
The  alarm  began  to  spread,  and  the  shops  in  the  neigh¬ 
borhood  of  the  disturbed  quarters  remained  closed. 
Barricades  of  a  more  formidable  character  were  thrown 
up  —  amounting  in  all  to  more  than  a  hundred — before 


TRANQUILLITY  RESTORED. 


391 


information  could  be  forwarded  to  the  troops.  Before 
twelve  o’clock  the  aspect  of  affairs  became  so  serious 
that  all  the  small  posts  of  soldiers  were  withdrawn,  to 
prevent  their  being  surprised  and  disarmed  by  the 
people,  and  shortly  afterward  three  or  four  regiments 
of  cavalry  and  as  many  of  infantry,  with  six  battalions 
of  artillery,  were  marched  upon  the  disaffected  quar¬ 
ters,  and  tierce  and  determined  conflicts  commenced 
at  the  barricades.  Charges  by  large  bodies  of  lancers 
were  made  every  five  minutes,  to  clear  the  principal 
streets.  JNo  quarter  was  given  by  the  soldiers,  who 
shot  all  that  resisted  them. 

Before  two  o’clock  there  were  30,000  troops  in  the 
streets,  and  the  most  peremptory  orders  were  issued 
by  the  officers,  that  the  windows  of  the  houses  should 
be  kept  closed,  and  that  no  persons  should  show  them¬ 
selves  in  the  balconies  or  they  would  be  fired  at.  Vol¬ 
leys  were  fired  at  windows,  and  many  persons  were 
killed.  In  the  middle  of  the  day  a  formidable  attempt 
was  made  by  the  people,  moving  from  different  quar¬ 
ters,  to  get  possession  of  the  bank  and  the  post-office ; 
but  the  large  force  stationed  near  these  having  de- 
ployed  into  line,  the  populace,  after  firing  a  few  vol¬ 
leys,  retreated.  During  the  greater  part  of  the  day  the 
bank  was  partially  blockaded,  as  by  some  accident  the 
communication  with  the  main  body  of  the  troops  was 
not  kept  up,  and  the  one  hundred  and  fiftv  soldiers 
stationed  there  were  without  provisions,  the  barricades 
erected  in  the  neighborhood  cutting  off  their  communi- 
cation  and  supplies.  At  four  o’clock,  however,  the 
barricades  were  carried,  and  the  garrison  relieved.  At 
eight  o’clock  in  the  evening,  tranquillity  had  been 


392 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


restored,  the  fighting  had  ceased  on  all  sides,  the 
populace  appeared  to  have  been  completely  dis¬ 
heartened  by  their  want  of  success,  and  the  harassed 
troops  were  permitted  to  repose  after  their  bloody 
victory. 

From  the  departments,  meantime,  came  news  of 
resistance.  In  the  frontier  districts  of  the  south-east 
particularly  —  the  whole  valley  of  the  Rhone,  in  fact 
the  whole  region  from  Joigny  to  Lyons,  including 
several  departments,  the  rural  population  rose  in  great 
strength  against  the  usurpation.  There  was  very  hard 
fighting  in  the  Nievre,  in  the  ILerault,  and  in  the  fron¬ 
tier  districts  of  the  Sardinian  and  Swiss  Alps  ;  and  in 
many  places  the  contest  was  distinguished  by  atroci¬ 
ties.  In  the  course  of  two  or  three  days,  however,  all 
resistance  was  quelled. 

Preparations  were  made  for  Ihe  election.  The  army 
voted  first,  and  of  conrse  its  vote  was  nearly  unani¬ 
mous  in  favor  of  Louis  Napoleon.  The  popular  elec¬ 
tion  was  to  take  place  on  Saturday  and  Sunday,  the 
20th  and  21st  of  December.  The  simple  question  sub¬ 
mitted  was,  whether  Louis  Napoleon  should  remain  at 
the  head  of  the  state  ten  years,  or  not.  No  other  can¬ 
didate  was  allowed  to  be  named.  The  official  returns 
show  7,439,219  votes  in  his  favor,  and  640,737  against 
him.  On  New  Year’s  day,  the  issue  of  the  election  was 
celebrated  with  more  than  royal  magnificence.  Can¬ 
non  were  fired  in  the  morning  —  seventy  discharges  in 
all,  ten  for  each  million  of  votes  recorded  in  his  favor; 
and  at  noon  the  President  went  to  N6tre  Dame,  the 
principal  church  of  Paris,  where  the  event  was  cele¬ 
brated  with  the  most  gorgeous  and  dazzling  pomp. 


TIIE  INAUGURATION. 


393 


The  scene  was  theatrical  and  imposing.  All  Paris  was 
covered  with  troops,  and  the  day  was  one  of  universal 
observance.  From  Notre  Dame,  Louis  Napoleon  re¬ 
turned  to  the  Tuileries,  where  the  reception  of  the 
authorities  took  place,  and  a  banquet  was  given  at 
which  four  hundred  persons  sat  down.  The  day  be¬ 
fore,  he  had  received  the  formal  announcement  by  the 
consultative  commission  of  the  result  of  the  election. 
M.  Baroche,  the  president  of  the  commission,  in  an¬ 
nouncing  it,  said  that,  “France  confided  in  his  courage, 
his  elevated  good-sense,  and  his  love ;  no  government 
ever  rested  on  a  basis  more  extensive,  or  had  an  origin 
more  legitimate  and  worthy  of  the  respect  of  nations.” 
In  reply,  Louis  Napoleon  said  that  France  had  com¬ 
prehended  that  he  departed  from  legality  only  to  re¬ 
turn  to  right:  that  she  had  absolved  him,  by  justifying 
an  act  which  had  no  other  object  than  to  save  France, 
and  perhaps  Europe,  from  years  of  trouble  and  anar¬ 
chy  :  that  he  felt  all  the  grandeur  of  his  new  mission, 
and  did  not  deceive  himself  as  to  its  difficulties.  He 
hoped  to  secure  the  destinies  of  France,  by  founding 
institutions  which  respond  at  the  same  time  to  the 
democratic  instincts  of  the  nation,  and  to  the  desire 
to  have,  henceforth,  a  strong  and  respected  government. 

On  the  14th  of  January  the  new  constitution  was 
decreed.  In  the  proclamation  accompanying  it,  the 
President  said  that,  not  having  the  vanity  to  substitute 
a  personal  theory  for  the  experience  of  centuries,  he 
sought  in  the  past  for  examples  that  might  best  be  fol¬ 
lowed;  and  he  said  to  himself,  “Since  France  has  made 
progress  during  the  last  fifty  years,  in  virtue  alone  of 
tho  administrative,  military,  judicial,  religious,  and 


394 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


financial  organization  of  the  Consulate  and  the  Em¬ 
pire,  why  should  not  we  also  adopt  the  political  insti¬ 
tutions  of  that  epoch?”  After  sketching  the  condition 
of  the  various  interests  of  France,  for  the  purpose  of 
showing  that  it  had  been  created  by  the  administra¬ 
tion  of  the  Emperor,  Louis  Napoleon  declared  the 
principal  features  of  the  constitution  established  by 
the  Emperor  had  been  adopted,  as  the  foundation  of 
the  new  constitution  which  he  submitted  to  the  people. 
The  constitution  consists  of  seven  sections.  The  g-ov- 
eminent  is  intrusted  to  Louis  Napoleon,  actual  Presi¬ 
dent  of  the  Republic,  for  ten  years :  he  governs  by 
means  of  the  ministers,  the  council  of  state,  the  sen¬ 
ate,  and  the  legislative  body.  He  is  responsible  to  the 
French  people,  to  whom  he  has  the  right  always  to 
appeal.  lie  is  chief  of  the  state,  commands  the  land 
and  sea  forces,  declares  war,  concludes  treaties,  and 
makes  rules  and  decrees  for  the  execution  of  the  laws. 
He  alone  has  the  initiative  of  the  laws,  and  the  right 
to  pardon.  He  has  the  right  to  declare  the  state  of 
siege  in  one  or  several  departments,  referring  to  the 
senate  with  the  least  possible  delay.  The  ministers 
depend  solely  on  him,  and  each  is  responsible  only  so 
far  as  the  acts  of  the  government  regard  him.  All  the 
officers  of  the  government,  military  and  civil,  high  and 
low,  swear  obedience  to  the  constitution  and  fidelity  to 
the  President.  Should  the  President  die  before  the 
expiration  of  his  office,  the  senate  convokes  the  na¬ 
tion  to  make  a  new  election  —  the  President  having  the 
right,  by  secret  will,  to  designate  the  citizen  whom  he 
recommends.  Until  the  election  of  a  new  President, 
the  president  of  the  senate  will  govern.  The  number 


THE  NEW  CONSTITUTION. 


395 


of  senators  is  fixed  at  eighty  for  the  first  year,  and  can¬ 
not  exceed  one  hundred  and  fifty.  Tiie  senate  is  com¬ 
posed  of  cardinals,  marshals,  admirals,  and  of  the 
citizens  whom  the  President  may  name.  The  senators 
are  not  removable,  and  are  for  life.  Their  services  are 
gratuitous,  but  the  President  may  give  them  §6000 
annually,  if  he  sees  fit.  The  officers  of  the  senate  are 
to  be  elected  on  nomination  of  the  President  of  the 
Republic,  and  are  to  hold  for  one  year.  The  senate  is 
to  be  convoked  and  prorogued  by  the  President,  and 
its  sittings  are  to  be  secret.  It  is  the  guardian  of  the 
fundamental  law  and  of  the  public  liberties :  no  law 
can  be  published  without  being  submitted  to  it.  It 
regulates  the  constitution  of  the  colonies,  and  all  that 
has  not  been  provided  for  by  the  constitution,  and  de¬ 
cides  upon  its  interpretation  —  but  its  decisions  are 
invalid  without  the  sanction  of  the  President.  It 
maintains  or  annuls  all  acts  complained  of  as  uncon¬ 
stitutional  by  the  government  or  by  petition.  It  can 
fix  the  bases  of  projects  of  laws  of  national  interest, 
in  reports  to  the  President;  and  can  also  propose 
modifications  of  the  constitution  ;  but  all  modifications 
of  the  fundamental  bases  of  the  constitution  must  be 
submitted  to  the  people.  In  the  legislative  body  there 
i-;  to  be  one  representative  for  every  35,000  electors 
elected  by  universal  suffrage.  The  deputies  receive  no 
salary,  and  hold  office  for  six  years.  The  legislative 
body  discusses  and  votes  the  projects  of  laws  and  the 
imposts.  Every  amendment  adopted  by  the  committee 
charged  with  the  examination  ot  a  project  ot  law,  shall 
!e  sent,  without  discussion,  to  the  council  of  state,  and 
if  not  adopted  by  that  body,  it  cannot  be  submitted  to 


396 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


legislative  deliberation.  The  sittings  are  to  be  public, 
but  may  be  secret  on  the  demand  of  five  members. 
Public  reports  of  the  proceedings  shall  be  confined  to 
the  journals  and  votes  —  and  shall  be  prepared  under 
direction  of  the  president  of  the  legislative  body.  The 
officers  are  to  be  named  by  the  President  of  the  Re¬ 
public.  Ministers  cannot  be  members  of  the  legisla¬ 
ture.  Ho  petition  can  be  addressed  to  the  legislative 
body.  The  President  of  the  Republic  convokes,,  ad¬ 
journs,  prorogues,  and  dissolves  the  legislative  body : 
in  case  of  dissolution,  he  shall  convoke  a  new  one 
within  six  months.  The  number  of  councilors  of  state 
is  from  forty  to  fifty.  They  are  to  be  named  by  the 
President  and  are  removable  by  him.  He  presides 
over  their  meetings.  They  are  to  draw  up  projects  of 
law  and  regulations  of  the  public  administration,  and 
to  resolve  difficulties  that  may  arise,  under  the  direc¬ 
tion  of  the  President.  Members  are  to  be  appointed 
from  its  number  by  the  President,  to  maintain,  in  the 
name  of  the  government,  the  discussion  of  the  projects 
of  law  before  the  senate  and  the  legislative  corps. 
The  salary  of  each  councilor  is  $5000.  The  ministers 
have  ranks,  right  of  sitting,  and  a  deliberative  voice  in 
the  council  of  state.  A  high  court  of  justice  judges 
without  appeal  all  persons  sent  before  it  accused  of 
crimes,  attempts  or  plots  against  the  President  of  the 
Republic,  and  against  the  internal  and  external  safety 
of  the  state.  It  cannot  be  convened  except  by  decree 
from  the  President.  Its  organization  is  to  be  regu¬ 
lated  by  the  senate.  Existing  provisions  of  law  not 
opposed  to  the  present  constitution  shall  remain  in 
force  until  legally  abrogated.  Such  are  the  provisions 
ef  the  new  constitution  of  France, 


LIBERTY  OF  THE  PRESS  STOPPED. 


397 


From  the  first,  Louis  Napoleon  exercised  the  power 
which  he  had  seized,  in  the  most  arbitrary  manner. 
Arrests  of  disaffected  persons  were  made  in  all  parts  of 
France,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  several  thou¬ 
sands  of  persons  were  sent  into  temporary  banishment, 
and  twenty-five  hundred  were  directed  to  be  sent  to 
the  penal  colony  of  Cayenne,  on  the  coast  of  South 
America.  These  acts  of  high-handed  severity  created 
a  deep  feeling  of  disapprobation,  to  which,  however, 
it  was  unsafe  to  give  expression,  either  in  print  or  in 
conversation. 

Among  the  numerous  decrees  of  Louis  Napoleon  to 
restrain  the  liberties  of  the  people  and  establish  his 
own  authority,  was  one  for  the  regulation  of  the  press, 
which  destroys  every  semblance  of  freedom  of  the 
press,  and  makes  it  a  mere  subservient  tool  in  the 
hands  of  the  government.  It  consists  of  four  chapters, 
and  the  following  are  their  provisions  :  (1.)  No  journal 
can  be  published  without  first  obtaining  permission  of 
the  government ;  nor  can  any  foreign  journal  be  ad¬ 
mitted  into  France  except  by  the  same  permission ; 
and  any  person  bringing  into  France  an  unauthorized 
paper,  will  be  liable  to  a  year’s  imprisonment  and  to  a 
fine  of  $1000.  Every  publisher  must  deposit  caution- 
money,  from  $3000  to  $10,000,  before  he  can  issue  a 
paper,  under  heavy  penalties.  (2.)  Stamp  duties  are 
imposed  upon  journals  whether  published  in  Franco, 
or  introduced  from  other  countries  ;  and  the  authori¬ 
ties  are  enjoined  to  seize  all  publications  violating  these 
regulations.  (3.)  Every  violation  of  the  article  of  the 
constitution  which  prohibits  legislative  reports,  is  pun¬ 
ishable  by  fine  of  from  $200  to  $1000.  The  publication 


398 


I.OUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


of  false  news  subjects  to  a  fine,  and  if  it  be  of  a  ten¬ 
dency  to  disturb  the  public  peace,  imprisonment  is 
added.  !No  account  of  the  proceedings  of  the  senate  or 
council  of  state,  and  no  report  of  trials  for  press  of¬ 
fenses,  can  be  published ;  and  in  all  affairs,  civil,  cor¬ 
rectional,  or  criminal,  the  courts  may  forbid  the  publi¬ 
cation  of  their  proceedings.  Every  editor  is  bound  to 
publish  official  documents,  relations,  and  rectifications 
which  may  be  addressed  to  him  by  any  public  au¬ 
thority  ;  if  he  fail  to  do  so,  he  may  be  fined  and  his 
journal  seized.  ETo  one  can  carry  on  the  bookseller’s 
trade,  or  issue  or  sell  engravings,  medals,  or  prints  of 
any  kind,  without  obtaining  permission  of  the  authori¬ 
ties,  and  becoming  subject  to  the  same  restrictions  as 
are  imposed  upon  journals.  (4.)  With  regard  to  exist¬ 
ing  journals,  three  months  are  allowed  for  them  to  de¬ 
posit  the  caution-money  required,  and  to  conform  to 
the  other  provisions  of  the  new  law. 

The  promulgation  of  a  decree  in  regard  to  the  pro¬ 
perty  of  Louis  Philippe  and  his  family,  created  much 
dissatisfaction,  especially  among  the  royalists.  It  de¬ 
clares  that  the  Orleans  family,  their  husbands,  wives 
and  descendants,  cannot  possess  any  real  or  personal 
property  in  France,  and  directs  the  whole  of  their  pre¬ 
sent  possessions  to  be  sold  within  one  year.  The  im¬ 
mense  property  possessed  by  Louis  Philippe  when  he 
ascended  the  throne,  and  given  by  him  to  his  children 
at  that  time,  was  declared  to  be  confiscated.  Of  the 
proceeds  of  its  sale,  $2,000,000  is  to  be  allowed  to  the 
mutual  assistance  societies  organized  among  the  peo¬ 
ple  ;  $2,000,000  will  be  devoted  to- the  establishment  of 
institutions  for  making  loans  on  mortgages;  $2,000,000 


THE  PRESIDENT  S  SPEECH. 


399 


is  to  be  used  as  a  pension  fund  for  the  poorest  of  the 
clergy  ;  and  the  remainder  is  to  be  distributed  in  pen¬ 
sions  to  military  functionaries.  In  this  decree  a  con¬ 
siderable  sum  was  directed  to  be  paid  annually  to  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans.  That  spirited  lady  addressed  to 
Louis  Napoleon  an  indignant  protest  against  the  de¬ 
cree.  She  said  —  “As  I  do  not  acknowledge  your 
right  to  plunder  my  family,  neither  do  I  acknowledge 
your  right  to  assign  to  me  a  dotation  in  the  name  of 
France.  I  refuse  the  dowry.” 

The  opening  of  the  new  senate  and  legislative  body 
took  place  on  the  20th  of  March,  1852  In  his  speech 
on  that  occasion,  the  President  briefly  rehearses  the 
reasons  which  made  his  usurpation  necessary,  and 
cited  the  readiness  with  which  the  people  submitted  to 
a  temporary  abridgment  of  their  liberties,  as  proof  of 
their  conviction  that  they  had  been  abused.  He  said, 
with  regard  to  the  rumors  that  he  intends  to  make 
himself  Emperor,  that  he  had  had  the  opportunity  to 
do  so  on  three  occasions  if  he  had  been  so  disposed, 
and  he  referred  to  his  forbearance  then,  as  evidence  of 
the  falsehood  of  the  reports.  lie  declared  that  he  was 
firmly  resolved  to  maintain  the  government  in  its  pre¬ 
sent  form,  unless  the  machinations  of  the  disaffected 
should  compel  him  to  proclaim  greater  powers.  He 
repeated  his  assurances  of  peace,  and  declared  that  he 
would  restore  popular  freedom  and  rights  as  rapidly 
as  the  security  of  the  country  would  permit. 

On  the  21st  of  March,  Louis  Napoleon  reviewed  the 
troops,  and  bestowed  upon  them  the  medal  instituted 
by  the  confiscation  of  the  Orleans  estates.  In  the 
6peech  which  he  made  on  the  occasion,  he  said,  his 


400 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


object  in  instituting  the  medal  was  to  make  some  more 
adequate  compensation  for  the  services  of  the  army 
than  they  usually  received.  lie  urged  them  to  accept 
it  as  an  encouragement  to  maintain  intact  their  mili¬ 
tary  spirit.  “Wear  it,  (he  said,)  as  a  proof  of  my  so¬ 
licitude  for  your  interest,  and  my  affection  for  that 
great  military  family,  of  which  I  am  proud  to  be  the 
head,  because  you  are  its  glorious  children.” 

On  the  evening  of  April  4th,  the  highest  judicial 
authorities  of  the  state  attended  at  the  Elysee  to  take 
the  oaths  prescribed  by  the  constitution  in  presence  of 
Louis  Hapoleon,  who  received  them  surrounded  by  his 
ministers.  A  complimentary  speech  wras  made  to  him 
on  behalf  of  the  judges.  In  his  reply  the  President 
used  strong  expressions  concerning  the  basis  of  his 
right  to  the  office  he  holds.  lie  said  :  “Since  the  day 
on  which  the  doctrine  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  people 
replaced  that  of  divine  right,  it  may  be  affirmed  with 
truth,  that  no  government  has  been  as  legitimate  as 
mine.  In  1804,  four  millions  of  votes,  in  proclaiming 
the  power  to  be  hereditary  in  my  family,  designated 
me  as  heir  to  the  empire.  In  1848,  nearly  six  millions 
called  me  to  the  head  of  the  republic.  In  1851  nearly 
eight  millions  maintained  me  there.  Consequently,  in 
taking  the  oath  to  me,  it  is  not  merely  to  a  man  that 
yen  swear  to  be  faithful,  but  to  a  principle — to  a 
cause — to  the  national  will  itself.”  These  expressions 
have  been  generally  considered  as  indicative  of  hered- 
itai}r  imperial  pretensions,  to  be  made  good  at  the 
earliest  convenient  opportunity. 

With  but  few  exceptions,  the  prominent  citizens  of 
France  universally  acknowledged  the  authority  of 


GENERAL  CHANG ARNIER. 


40J 


Louis  Napoleon,  and  took  the  oath  of  fidelity  which 
had  been  prescribed  by  him.  Among  the  dissentients 
was  General  Changarnier,  who  addressed  a  remark¬ 
able  letter  to  the  minister  of  the  Interior  in  reply  to 
his  demand  that  he  should  take  the  oath  of  allegiance 
to  Louis  JN  apoleon.  He  says  that  the  President  had 
repeatedly  endeavored  to  seduce  him  to  his  support — 
that  he  had  offered  not  only  to  make  him  marshal  but 
to  confer  upon  him  another  military  dignity  unknown 
since  the  empire,  and  to  attach  to  it  immense  pecuni¬ 
ary  rewards ;  that  when  he  perceived  that  personal 
ambition  had  no  effect  upon  him,  he  endeavored  to 
gain  him  over,  by  pretending  a  design  to  prepare  the 
•way  for  the  restoration  of  the  monarchy  to  which  he 
supposed  him  to  be  attached.  All  these  attempts  had 
been  without  effect.  lie  had  never  ceased  to  be  ready 
to  defend  with  energy  the  legal  powers  of  Louis  Na¬ 
poleon,  and  to  give  every  opposition  to  the  illegal 
prolongation  of  those  powers.  The  exile  he  had  un¬ 
dergone  in  solitude  and  silence  had  not  changed  his 
opinion  of  the  duties  he  owed  to  France.  lie  would 
hasten  to  her  defense  should  she  be  attacked,  but  he 
refused  the  oath  exacted  by  the  perjured  man  who  had 
failed  to  corrupt  him.  In  reply  to  this  letter,  the  edi¬ 
tor  of  the  “  Constitutionnel,”  the  official  organ  of  the 
government,  brought  against  General  Changarnier  spe¬ 
cific  charges  —  that  in  March,  1S49,  lie  demanded  from 
Louis  Napoleon  written  authority  to  throw  the  constit¬ 
uent  Assembly  out  of  the  window  —  that  he  subse¬ 
quently  urged  him  in  the  strongest  manner  to  make  a 
coup  d'etat  ;  and  that  in  November,  1S50,  he  assem¬ 
bled  a  number  of  political  personages,  and  proposed  to 


402 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


them  to  arrest  Louis  Napoleon  and  send  him  to 
prison,  to  prorogue  the  Assembly,  and  to  assume  the 
dictatorship.  General  Lamoriciere,  also,  in  a  pub¬ 
lished  letter,  refused  to  take  the  oath  .required ;  he 
declared  his  readiness  to  defend  France  ao-ainst  foreign 
foes  whenever  she  should  be  attacked,  but  he  would 
not  take  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  a  perjured  chief.  The 
venerable  astronomer,  Arago,  also  refused  to  take 
the  oatli  of  allegiance  required  of  all  connected  in  any 
way  with  the  government.  He  wrote  a  firm  and  dig¬ 
nified  letter  to  the  minister  notifying  him  of  his  pur¬ 
pose,  and  calling  on  him  to  designate  the  day  when  it 
would  be  necessary  for  him  to  quit  the  bureau  of  astron¬ 
omy,  with  which  he  had  been  so  closely  connected  for 
half  a  century.  He  also  informed  him  that  he  should 
address  a  circular  letter  to  scientific  men  throughout 
the  world,  explaining  the  necessity  which  drove  him 
from  an  establishment  with  which  his  name  had  been 
so  long  associated,  and  to  vindicate  his  motives  from 
suspicion.  The  minister  informed  him  that,  in  consid¬ 
eration  of  his  eminent  services  to  the  cause  of  science, 
the  government  had  decided  not  to  exact  the  oath,  and 
that  ho  could  therefore  retain  his  post.  These  exam¬ 
ples  of  non-concurrence  in  the  new  policy  of  the  Presi¬ 
dent  were  followed  by  inferior  magistrates  in  various 
parts  of  France.  In  several  of  the  departments,  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  local  councils  had  refused  to  take  the  oaths 
of  allegiance.  The  civil  courts  of  Paris  had,  also,  in 
one  or  two  instances,  asserted  their  independence  by 
deciding  against  the  government  in  prosecutions  com¬ 
menced  8*>?.inst  the  press  Oixth/lJiSd  of  April,  more¬ 
over  the  cavil  tribunal  gave  6  on  lAo  demand 


THE  PRESIDENT  AND  THE  ASSEMBLY. 


403 


made  by  the  princes  of  the  Orleans  family  to  declare 
illegal  the  seizure  of  the  estates  of  Nenilly  and  Mon- 
ceaux,  under  the  decree  of  the  22d  of  January,  rela¬ 
tive  to  the  property  of  the  late  king,  Louis  Philippe. 
In  answer  to  this  demand,  the  government  called  on 
the  tribunal  to  declare  that  the  decree  of  22d  January 
was  a  legislative  act,  and  the  seizure  of  the  prop¬ 
erty  an  administrative  act,  and  that  consequently  the 
tribunal  had  no  jurisdiction. 

The  session  of  the  legislative  body  wras  closed  on  the 
28th  of  June  by  a  message  from  the  President,  in  which 
he  thanked  the  members  for  their  cooperation  and 
support,  and  especially  for  having  “occupied  them¬ 
selves  with  the  great  interests  of  the  country,  laying 
aside  all  susceptibility,  and  feeling  that  the  epoch  of 
sterile  and  impassioned  discourses  had  passed  away, 
and  that  of  business  had  arrived.”  lie  hoped  that 
they  would  extend  throughout  the  country  the  senti¬ 
ment,  of  which  from  their  own  observation  they  must 
be  possessed,  “that  there  exists  in  France  a  government 
animated  with  the  faith  and  the  love  of  good  —  which 
reposes  on  the  people,  the  source  of  all  power  —  on 
the  army,  the  source  of  all  force  —  and  on  religion, 
the  source  of  all  justice.”  During  the  latter  part  of 
the  session,  the  budget  was  discussed  with  some  interest 
and  with  some  attempts  at  freedom  of  debate  ;  but 
ministers  gave  out  6uch  threatening  intimations,  that 
the  assembly  were  made  to  feel  that  they  possessed  but 
the  name  of  legislative  authority.  The  opposition 
members  drew  up  a  strong  report,  reviewing  in  a  criti¬ 
cal  manner  the  events  of  the  session,  and  expressing  an 
emphatic  condemnation  of  the  policy  of  the  President ; 


404 


LOUIS  N APOLLON  AND  IIIS  '1  IMPS. 


but  as  the  paper  could  not  be  printed,  it  was  widely 
circulated  in  manuscript. 

The  session  of  the  senate  was  closed  by  decree  on 
the  5th  of  July.  The  severity  of  the  restraints  upon 
the  press  was  carried  to  such  an  extreme,  that  the 
Paris  correspondents  of  three  of  the  London  journals 
were  summoned  to  the  department  of  police,  and 
were  assured  that  in  future  they  would  be  held  per¬ 
sonally  responsible,  not  only  for  the  contents  of  their 
own  letters,  but  for  whatever  the  papers  with  which 
they  were  connected  might  say,  in  leading  articles  or 
otherwise,  concerning  French  affairs. 

On  the  17th  of  July  the  President  left  Paris,  to 
celebrate  the  opening  of  the  railway  between  Paris 
and  Strasbourg.  At  the  latter  city  he  was  received 
with  every  demonstration  of  respect,  coming  now  as  a 
sovereign,  and  not  as  an  adventurous  pretender  to  the 
throne.  All  the  ceremonies  were  on  the  most  extensive 
scale.  During  his  stay  at  Strasbourg  he  crossed  the 
Rhine,  and  went  to  Baden-Baden,  his  object  being, 
according  to  rumor  at  the  time,  to  seek  an  interview 
with  the  Princess  Caroline  Stephanie  de  Yasa,  grand¬ 
daughter  of  the  Duchess  of  Baden,  to  whose  hand  it 
was  supposed  he  aspired.  Another  rumor  was  that 
the  lady,  with  whom  the  President  was  desirous  of  an 
alliance,  was  another  Baden  princess,  and  a  grand¬ 
daughter  of  Eugene  BeauharnaisA 

*  In  connection  with  these  rumors,  we  give  a  fact  of  previous 
occurrence : 

When  the  late  J.  Fenimore  Cooper  was  residing  at  Paris  in  1833,  his 
republican  sympathies  as  well  as  personal  friendship  for  General 
Lafayette,  led  to  a  familiar  and  confidential  intercourse  between  them. 


PROPOSALS  OF  MARRIAGE. 


405 


On  his  return  the  President  was  honored  with  a 
grand  military  display,  and  an  apparently  cordial 
welcome  by  the  Parisians.  A  change  was  now  made 
in  his  ministry,  and  his  household  was  arranged  on 
quite  an  imperial  footing,  a  grand  marshal  of  the  pal¬ 
ace,  a  grand  master  of  ceremonies,  a  grand  equerry, 
and  officers  of  like  character,  being,  apjjointed.  New 
titles  of  nobility  were  also  conferred,  higher  titles  were 
applied  in  the  government  papers  to  the  President 
himself,  all  indicating  a  preparation  for  the  empire. 
The  15th  of  August,  the  birthday  of  Napoleon,  was 
signalized  by  fetes  of  extraordinary  magnitude  and 
splendor.  The  scenes  were  skillfully  adapted  to  recall 
the  memory  and  glory  of  Napoleon.  The  citizens, 

On  one  occasion,  when  calling  on  Lafayette,  Mr.  Cooper  was  received 
by  the  servant  with  an  unusual  appearance  of  caution.  He  found  the 
general  alone,  who  inquired  whether  he  met  an  acquaintance  in  the 
passage.  On  finding  he  had  not,  Lafayette  remarked  that  his  servant 
must  have  secreted  the  visitor  in  a  side  room  ;  and  went  on  to  inform 
his  friend  that  Prince  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte  had  just  left  him  ! 
that  although  a  Bonaparte  then  risked  his  life  by  entering  France,  the 
prince  had  come  to  propose  a  marriage  with  his  grand-daughter 
Clementine,  thus  uniting  the  Republicans  and  Imperialists,  and 
making  himself  Emperor  !  Lafayette  replied  that  his  family  adopted 
the  American  practice  of  choosing  husbands  for  themselves,  and  that 
the  prince  could  address  the  lady  if  he  pleased.  Of  what  followed, 
we  are  not  informed  ;  but  must  infer  that  his  suit,  if  preferred,  was 
unsuccessful,  as  the  lady  afterward  married  M.  de  Beaumont,  French 
ambassador  under  Louis  Napoleon,  to  the  court  of  Austria.  When  in 
London,  some  time  after,  Mr.  Cooper  mentioned  to  tho  Princess 
Charlotte,  (widow  of  the  elder  brother  of  Louis  Napoleon,)  the 
prince’s  daring  visit;  to  which  she  only  replied,  “he  is  mad  I” 

Mr.  N.  P.  Willis,  who  related  the  fact  some  years  since,  prophetically 
added,  “there  is  a  ‘method  in  his  madness,’  for  the  same  match 
between  Imperialism  and  Republicanism  has  been  the  prince’s  pur¬ 
suit  e*er  since,  and  the  chances  are  that  he  will  bring  it  about” 


406 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  niS  TIMES. 


however,  complied  to  a  manifestly  small  extent  with 
the  request  of  the  government  for  a  general  illumina¬ 
tion.  Solicitations  to  sign  petitions  for  the  restoration 
of  the  empire  were  already  addressed  to  the  inhabit¬ 
ants  of  the  faubourgs  of  Paris,  but  the  number  of 
subscribers  was  not  very  encouraging.  In  the  month 
of  September,  Louis  Napoleon  made  an  extensive  tour 
through  the  south  and  west  of  France.  Though  the 
accounts  in  the  journals  were  without  doubt  exagger¬ 
ated,  the  various  receptions  and  displays  arranged  Ly 
functionaries  of  the  government,  and  various  means 
taken  to  stimulate  enthusiasm,  yet  it  must  be  admitted 
that  this  journey  was  highly  successful  in  producing 
an  exhibition  of  popular  homage  and  attachment. 
The  name  of  Napoleon  still  demonstrated  its  potency 
wdth  the  masses  of  the  French.  Along  the  entire 
route  the  President  was  hailed  with  cries  of  u  Vive 
V  JEmpereur His  liberality  excited  admiration  and 
increased  his  popularity.  He  donated  thousands  of 
francs  to  the  charitable  institutions  of  various  towns 
through  which  he  passed,  and  distributed  gold  with 
his  own  hands  to  the  veterans  of  the  old  empire.  His 
munificence  was  even  exercised  in  a  way  which 
evinced  his  arbitrary  assumption  of  power.  He  pub¬ 
lished  a  decree  at  Toulon  to  the  effect  that  the  fortifi¬ 
cations  of  that  important  place  were  to  be  immediately 
enlarged  and  strengthened.  The  decroe  was  placarded 
on  all  the  walls  of  the  town,  much  to  the  satisfaction 
of  the  inhabitants,  who  looked  upon  it  not  only  as  a 
means  of  increasing  the  importance  of  their  town,  but 
also  of  affording  labor  to  the  working  classes.  The 
President  had  previously  granted  two  million  five 


VISIT  TO  TOULON  AND  LYONS. 


407 


hundred  thousand  francs  for  the  building  of  the  new 
cathedral  at  Marseilles.  This  prodigality  on  the  part 
of  Louis  Napoleon,  without  even  the  formality  of 
asking  the  legislative  corps,  was  the  subject  of  strong 
animadversion  on  the  part  of  those  who  had  hoped 
that  the  parliamentary  system  was  not  altogether 
destroyed. 

The  ceremonies  at  Toulon  were  somewhat  ludicrous 
and  unlucky.  The  mayor,  in  his  confusion,  when  re¬ 
ceiving  the  President  at  the  gates  of  the  town,  forgot 
the  important  ceremony  of  presenting  him  with  the 
keys  of  the  town.  lie  afterward  wished  to  repair  the 
omission  when  Louis  Napoleon  visited  the  arsenal  ; 
but  the  admiral  told  him  bluntly  that  the  arsenal  was 
quite  independent  of  the  town,  and  that  he  (the  admi¬ 
ral)  would  allow  no  mayor  to  assume  any  jurisdiction 
over  it.  In  the  ball-room  a  rather  awkward  affaii 
occurred.  The  decorations  were  of  a  former  period 
and  the  workmen  omitted  to  change  the  initials  “  R 
F.”  Fortunately  the  mayor  discovered  the  mistake  in 
time.  The  “  R  ”  was  altered  into  an  “  E,”  which  al 
once  converted  Republique  Francaise  into  Empire 
Francaise.  The  distant  magistracy  of  Toulon  could 
hardly  be  blamed  for  not  keeping  their  mottoes  corre¬ 
sponding  with  their  oft-changing  allegiance  to  their 
central  government. 

At  Lyons,  the  President  witnessed  the  ceremony  of 
erecting  an  equestrian  statue  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon, 
and  made  a  speech  of  considerable  significance  in 
connection  with  his  progress  toward  the  imperial 
dignity  : 

“Lyonese,”  he  said,  “your  city  has  always  been 


40S 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


associated  by  remarkable  incidents  with  the  different 
phases  of  the  life  of  the  Emperor.  Yon  hailed  him 
Consul  previous  to  his  crossing  the  Alps  to  gather  fresh 
laurels.  You  hailed  him  in  his  omnipotence,  Emperor ; 
and  when  Europe  had  confined  him  on  an  island,  you 
were  again  among  the  first,  in  1815,  to  salute  him  as 
Emperor.  To-day  your  city  is  the  first  to  erect  a  statue 
to  him.  This  fact  is  significant.  Equestrian  statues 
are  only  erected  to  sovereigns  who  have  resigned,  and 
it  was  on  that  account  the  governments  who  preceded 
me  have  ever  denied  that  homage  to  a  power  of  which 
they  would  not  admit  the  legitimacy.  And  yet  who 
was  more  legitimate  than  the  Emperor,  thrice  elected 
by  the  people,  consecrated  by  the  chief  of  religion,  and 
recognized  by  all  the  continental  powers  of  Europe, 
who  were  united  to  him  by  bonds  of  policy  and  by  ties 
of  blood  ?  The  Emperor  was  the  mediator  between  two 
hostile  epochs.  He  destroyed  the  old  regime  by  re¬ 
establishing  all  that  was  good  in  it.  He  destroyed  the 
revolutionary  spirit,  by  causing  the  blessings  of  the 
revolution  everywhere  to  triumph.  This  is  the  reason 
why  those  who  overturned  him  soon  deplored  their 
triumph.  As  for  those  who  defended  him,  I  need  not 
call  to  mind  how  profoundly  they  lamented  his  down¬ 
fall.  On  that  account,  when  the  people  found  them¬ 
selves  free  to  make  a  choice,  they  directed  their  eyes  to 
the  heir  of  Napoleon,  and  it  is  for  the  same  motive 
that,  from  Paris  to  Lyons,  everywhere  on  my  passage 
the  unanimous  cry  of  Vive  V  Emyereur ,  has  been 
raised  !  But  that  cry  is  much  more,  in  my  view,  a 
recollection  that  affects  my  heart,  than  a  hope  that 
excites  my  pride.  A  faithful  servant  of  my  country, 
I  shall  ever  have  but  one  object — that  of  reconstituting 
in  this  great  country,  convulsed  by  so  many  revolutions 
and  Utopian  schemes,  a  peace  founded  on  conciliation 
of  persons,  on  the  inflexibility  of  the  principles  of 
authority,  morality,  and  affection  for  the  laboring  and 
suffering  classes,  and  of  national  dignity.  We  are 
only  just  emerging  from  those  critical  times,  when,  the 
notions  of  good  and  evil  being  confounded,  the  best 
minds  were  perverted.  Prudence  and  patriotism 


PLOT  SUSPECTED. 


400 


require  that  at  such  periods  the  nation  should  pause 
and  consider,  before  it  fixes  its  destinies,  and  it  is  still 
difficult  for  me  to  know  under  what  name  I  can  render 
the  greatest  services.  If  the  humble  title  of  President 
could  facilitate  the  mission  confided  to  me ,  and  before 
which  I  did  not  recede ,  1  should  not,  from  personal 
interest ,  desire  to  exchange  that  title  for  the  title  of 
Emperor.  Let  us,  then,  deposit  on  this  stone  our 
homage  to  a  great  man.  We  thus  honor  both  the 
glory  of  France  and  the  generous  gratitude  of  the 
people,  and  testify  likewise  the  fidelity  of  the  Lyonese 
to  immortal  souvenirs.” 

This  speech  was  received  with  loud  cries  of  Vive 
V  Empereur!  It  was  immediately  transmitted  by 
telegraph,  and  placarded  in  the  streets  of  Paris. 

At  another  place,  in  answer  to  an  address  from  the 
authorities  urging  the  Imperial  regime,  he  remarked  : 
“  When  the  general  interest  is  at  stake,  I  will  try  to 
anticipate  public  opinion ;  but  I  follow  it  in  the  case 
of  an  interest  which  may  appear  personal.”  The  sin¬ 
cerity  of  such  expressions  may  be  justly  subject  to  sus¬ 
picion,  when  mercenary  agents  were  shouting  among 
the  crowds,  Vive  V  Empereur  ! 

Previous  to  the  entrance  of  the  President  into  Mar¬ 
seilles,  a  discovery  was  made  of  a  supposed  plot  to 
assassinate  him  by  means  of  an  infernal  machine,  in 
imitation  of  a  similar  attempt  made  upon  the  life  of 
Napoleon  when  First  Consul.  Numerous  pieces  of 
gas  pipe,  so  constructed  as  to  answer  the  purpose  of 
musket  barrels,  and  loaded  with  hundreds  of  bullets, 
were  discovered  in  a  house  situated  on  the  route  .by 
which  it  was  presumed  the  prince  would  enter  the 
city.  Many  arrests  were  made  of  individuals  supposed 
to  have  a  connection  with  this  affair,  and  the  impression 
18 


41  f  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  Alp  IIIS  TIMES. 

was  sought  to  be  conveyed  that  the  ramifications  of 
the  plot  wrere  extended  to  various  prominent  places 
throughout  France.  There  was  quite  a  strong  sus- 
picion  on  the  other  hand,  that  this  whole  affair 
was  but  an  ingenious  device  of  the  police  to  increase 
the  popular  interest  in  the  President;  and  there  are 
some  important  considerations  favoring  such  an  idea. 

After  having  passed  over  the  most  of  his  contem¬ 
plated  route,  and  having  had  a  good  opportunity  to 
observe  the  temper  and  inclinations  of  the  people,  the 
prince  more  explicitly  announced  his  opinions  as  to 
the  assumption  of  the  title  of  Emperor,  in  the  following 
speech  at  Bordeaux,  which  is  given  with  the  reporter’s 
remarks  as  to  its  reception  : 

“The  object  of  my  journey,  as  you  are  aware,  was 
to  become  personally  acquainted  with  our  beautiful 
provinces  of  the  south,  and  to  stud}7  their  necessities. 
It  has,  however,  given  occasion  for  a  much  more 
important  result.  In  fact,  and  I  may  say  it  with  a 
frankness  as  far  removed  from  vanity  as  false  modesty, 
never  did  a  people  testify  in  a  direct,  more  spontane¬ 
ous,  more  unanimous'  manner,  their  determination  to 
relieve  themselves  from  anxiety  for  their  future  condi¬ 
tion  by  consolidating  in  one  hand  a  power  with  which 
they  sympathize.  (Applause.) 

*•**•***•**•  * 

“The  nation  now  surrounds  me  with  its  sympathy, 
because  I  do  not  belong  to  the  family  of  '•ideologues? 
To  achieve  the  well-being  of  the  country,  there  is  no 
necessity  for  the  application  of  new  systems,  but  it  is 
before  all  things  necessary  to  give  confidence  in  the 
present,  and  security  for  the  future.  This  is  the  reason 
why  France  appears  to  wish  to  return  to  the  empire. 
(“Yes,  yes.”  “Bravo.”  “  Vive  1’Empereur.”)  There 
is,  nevertheless,  one  apprehension  to  which  I  must 
allude.  In  a  spirit  of  mistrust,  certain  people  exclaim, 
‘T&e  empire  is  war.’  But  I  say,  ‘The  empire  is  peace.’ 


SPE^I  AT  BORDEAUX.  ill 

It  is  peace,  for  France  desires  it;  and  when  France  is 
contented,  the  world  is  tranquil.  (These  words,  pro¬ 
nounced  in  a  firm  and  emphatic  tone,  produced  an 
immense  sensation.) 

“Glory  may  be  bequeathed  as  an  inheritance,  but 
not  war.  Did  those  princes  who  gloried  in  being  the 
descendants  of  Louis  XIV.  recommence  his  combats? 
War  is  not  made  for  pleasure,  it  is  made  from  necessity, 
and  at  those  epochs  of  transition  when,  side  by  side 
with  so  many  elements  of  prosperity,  so  many  causes 
of  death  also  germinate,  we  may  well  say  with  truth, 
cursed  be  he  who  shall  be  the  first  to  give  tiie  signal  in 
Europe  of  a  coalition,  the  consequences  of  which  would 
be  incalculable.  I  admit,  however,  that  I,  like  the 
Emperor,  have  many  conquests  to  make.  I  desire,  as 
he  did,  to  conquer,  by  conciliation,  dissenting  parties, 
and  to  bring  back  into  the  current  of  the  great  popular 
streams  those  hostile  rivulets  which  run  to  nothing, 
without  profit  for  any  one. 

“I  desire  to  conquer,  by  religion,  by  morality,  by 
prosperity,  that  yet  numerous  part  of  the  population, 
which,  in  the  midst  of  a  country  of  faith  and  belief, 
scarcely  knows  the  precepts  of  Christ  —  which,  in  the 
midst  of  the  most  fertile  country  in  the  world,  can 
scarcely  enjoy  such  of  the  produce  of  the  earth  as  the 
first  necessity  requires.  (Sensation.)  We  have  im¬ 
mense  uncultivated  territories  to  clear,  roads  to  make, 
ports  to  deepen,  rivers  to  render  navigable,  canals  to 
finish,  our  net-work  of  railways  to  complete. 

“We  have,  opposite  to  Marseilles,  a  vast  kingdom  to 
assimilate  to  France ;  we  have  all  our  great  western 
ports  to  bring  nearer  to  the  American  continent,  by  the 
rapidity  of  communication  which  we  still  want;  in  a 
word,  we  have  everywhere  ruins  to  rebuild,  false  gods 
to  cast  down,  truths  to  make  triumph.  (Prolonged 
applause.)  Thus  do  I  understand  the  empire  —  if  the 
empire  is  to  be  re-established.  (Sensation.  “Vive  1’ 
Empereur!”)  Such  are  the  conquests  which  I  contem¬ 
plate;  and  all  you  who  surround  me,  who  desire,  with 
me,  the  good  of  your  country,  you  are  my  soldiers.” 
(“Yes,  yes.”  Repeated  plaudits.) 


412 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


On  his  way  back  to  Paris,  Louis  Napoleon  stopped  at 
the  Chateau  d’Amboise,  and  liberated  Abd-el-Kader 
from  his  captivity,  informing  him  that  he  would  be 
conducted  to  Broussa  in  Turkey,  where  he  would  re¬ 
ceive  from  the  French  government  an  allowance 
befitting  his  rank. 

About  the  middle  of  October  the  President  reached 
Paris,  and  was  greeted  with  imposing  demonstrations 
and  great  apparent  enthusiasm.  The  ordinary  elements 
of  such  spectacles  were  more  profuse  than  usual  —  tri¬ 
umphal  arches,  banners,  transparencies,  gilded  eagles, 
deputations,  processions,  the  army,  and  the  citizens  in 
their  holiday  suits,  all  exhibited  their  splendors  to  the 
best  advantage  under  the  favor  of  a  cloudless  sky,  and 
weather  as  fine  as  could  be  wished.  The  inscriptions 
and  devices  exhibited  a  remarkable  uniformity  of  sen¬ 
timent,  the  consequence,  it  was  charged,  of  being  pre¬ 
pared  by  the  orders  of  the  government,  though  this 
was  denied  by  the  official  journal,  which  maintained 
that  the  reception  in  all  parts  was  the  spontaneous 
tribute  of  the  people  of  Paris.  The  prince  entered  the 
city  on  horseback,  by  the  bridge  of  Austerlitz,  which 
was  spanned  by  a  grand  arch,  dedicated  by  “the  city 
of  Paris  to  Louis  Napoleon,  Emperor.”  Of  similar 
purport  were  all  the  inscriptions.  An  immense  con¬ 
course  of  troops  and  people  followed  him  to  the  Tuil- 
eries,  with  shouts  of  “  Vive  Napoleon  III !  ”  He  was 
surrounded  by  a  numerous  staff,  among  whom  were 
several  foreign  officers  ;  but  it  was  remarked  that  none 
of  the  foreign  ministers  took  part  in  the  display.  In 
the  evening  the  city  was  illuminated.  This  was,  with¬ 
out  doubt,  the  finest  receotion  with  which  the  President 


MESSAGE  TO  TFIE  SENATE. 


413 


had  ever  met  in  Paris,  and  must  have  satisfied  him, 
nad  he  any  scruples,  of  the  feasibility  of  speedily 
reaching  the  summit  of  his  ambition. 

He  now  no  longer  hesitated  in  taking  that  step  tor 
which  he  had  made  such  long  and  patient  preparations. 
By  talent,  by  maneuvering,  by  flattery,  Dy  unfaltering 
energy  of  purpose,  and  the  unscrupulous  use  of  all 
necessary  means,  he  had  formed  the  antecedents  of  the 
empire.  Immediately,  therefore,  on  his  return,  he 
issued  a  decree,  summoning  the  senate  to  meet  on  the 
4th  of  November,  to  consider  the  question  of  changing 
the  form  of  government,  and  re-establishing  the  empire, 
in  consequence  of  the  expressed  wishes  of  the  people 
of  France.  The  senate  met  on  the  day  appointed,  and 
was  opened  by  Prince  Jerome  Bonaparte  with  a  brief 
statement  of  the  object  of  the  session.  The  following 
message  from  the  President  was  then  read  by  the 
minister  of  state : 

“Senators, — The  nation  has  clearly  manifested  its 
wish  for  the  re-establishment  of  the  empire.  Confident 
in  your  patriotism  and  your  intelligence,  I  have  con¬ 
voked  you  for  the  purpose  of  deliberating  on  that  grave 
question,  and  of  intrusting  you  with  the  regulation  of 
tbe  new  order  of  things.  If  you  should  adopt  it,  you 
will  think,  no  doubt,  as  I  do,  that  the  constitution  of 
1852  ought  to  be  maintained,  and  then  the  modifications 
recognized  as  indispensable  will  in  no  way  touch  its 
fundamental  basis. 

“The  change  which  is  in  preparation  will  bear  chiefly 
on  the  form,  and  yet  the  resumption  of  the  Imperial 
system  is,  for  France,  of  immense  significance.  In 
fact,  in  the  re-establishment  of  the  empire,  the  people 
finds  a  guarantee  for  its  interests,  and  a  satisfaction  for 
its  just  pride.  That  re-establishment  guarantees  the 
interests  of  the  people,  by  insuring  the  future,  by 
closing  the  era  of  revolutions,  and  by  again  consecrat- 


414 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


ing  the  conquests  of  ’S9.  It  satisfies  its  just  pride, 
because  in  restoring,  with  liberty  and  reflection,  that 
which  thirty-seven  years  ago  the  entire  of  Europe  had 
overturned  by  the  force  of  arms,  in  the  midst  of  the 
disasters  of  the  country,  the  people  nobly  avenges  its 
reverses’ without  victims,  without  threatening  any  inde¬ 
pendence,  and  without  troubling  the  peace  of  the  world. 

“I  do  not  ignore,  nevertheless,  all  that  is  full 
of  peril,  in  at  this  day  accepting  and  placing  on 
one’s  head  the  crown  of  Napoleon  ;  but  my  appre¬ 
hensions  diminish  with  the  idea  that,  representing  as 
I  do,  by  so  many  titles,  the  cause  of  the  people  and 
the  national  will,  it  will  be  the  nation  which,  in  ele¬ 
vating  me  to  the  throne,  will  herself  crown  me. 

(Signed)  LOUIS  NAPOLEON. 

Given  at  the  Palace  of  St.  Cloud,  Nov.  4.  1852.” 

A  proposition  to  modify  the  constitution,  signed  by- 
ten  senators,  was  then  presented  ;  and  a  committee  of 
ten  was  appointed,  which  submitted  a  long  report, 
accompanied  by  a  Senatus  Consultum ,  consisting  of 
eisrht  articles.  After  some  discussion  on  each  of  the 
articles,  the  whole  was  adopted  by  a  vote  of  eighty-six 
out  of  eighty-seven  senators.  The  substance>of  this  act 
of  the  senate  is  as  follows  :  it  declares  that,  1.  The  em¬ 
pire  is  re-established,  and  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte 
is  Emperor  under  the  name  of  Napoleon  III. ;  2.  The 
imperial  dignity  is  hereditary  in  his  direct  and  legiti¬ 
mate  male  descendants,  by  order  of  primogeniture ; 
3.  If  he  has  no  male  descendants,  he  may  adopt  the 
legitimate  children  and  descendants  in  the  male  line 
of  the  brothers  of  Napoleon  I.  ;  4.  Adoption  is  inter¬ 
dicted  to  his  descendants  ;  5.  He  is  to  regulate  by  an 
organic  decree  the  order  of  succession,  in  case  he 
should  leave  no  direct,  legitimate  or  adopted  heir ; 
6.  The  members  of  the  family  of  Louis  Napoleon  who 


COMPLIANCE  OF  TIIE  SENATE. 


415 


can  eventually  be  called  to  the  sucession,  and  their 
descendants,  constitute  the  imperial  family,  whose  posi¬ 
tion  is  regulated  by  the  senatus  cousultum,  and  none 
of  whom  can  marry  without  the  Emperor’s  sanction ; 
7.  The  constitution  of  January  15,  1852,  is  maintained 
in  all  its  provisions  not  contrary  to  the  present  senatus 
consultum,  and  no  modification  of  it  can  be  effected  ex¬ 
cept  in  the  manner  and  by  the  means  which  it  has 
prescribed  ;  8.  The  proposition  that  the  empire  be  re- 
established  upon  this  basis  and  on  these  conditions,  is 
to  be  submitted  to  the  people  for  their  acceptance. 

Immediately  after  the  adoption  of  this  act,  the  sen¬ 
ators  in  full  costume,  and  the  cardinals  in  scarlet  robes, 
preceded  by  an  escort  of  cavalry,  repaired  to  the 
palace  of  St.  Cloud,  where  they  were  ushered  into  the 
presence  of  the  Prince  President. 

In  his  reply  to  the  senate  at  this  interview,  Louis 
Napoleon  observed  : 

“When,  forty-eight  years  since,  in  this  same  palace,  in 
this  same  room,  and  under  analogous  circumstances,  the 
senate  came  to  oiler  the  crown  to  the  chief  of  my  fam¬ 
ily,  the  Emperor  replied  in  these  memorable  words : 
‘My  spirit  will  no  longer  be  with  my  posterity  from 
the  day  when  that  posterity  shall  cease  to  meri'  the 
love  and  the  confidence  of  the  great  nation.’  What 
now  most  affects  my  heart  is  the  thought  that  the  spirit 
of  the  Emperor  is  with  me,  that  his  ideas  guide  me, 
that  his  shade  protects  me,  since,  by  a  solemn  proceed¬ 
ing,  you  come,  in  the  name  of  the  French  people,  to 
prove  to  me  that  I  have  merited  the  confidence  of  the 
country.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  tell  you  that 
my  constant  care  will  be  to  labor  with  you  to  promote 
the  grandeur  and  prosperity  of  France.” 

On  the  21st  and  22d  days  of  November,  the  expres¬ 
sion  of  the  popular  will  was  taken  throughout  France. 


416  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

But  little  opposition  was  manifested.  The  result  of  the 
■vote  was  as  follows  : 


Foj  the  empire .  7,864,189 

Against  it, . 253,145 

Votes  canceled  as  illegal, .  63,326 

Majority  for  Louis  Napoleon, .  7,547,718 


On  the  1st  of  December,  the  legislative  corps,  num¬ 
bering  two  hundred  and  forty  members,  assembled  for 
the  purpose  of  making  the  official  declaration  of  the 
election  ;  then  proceeding  to  St.  Cloud,  in  full  costume, 
announced  the  result.  The  next  day,  December  22d, 
the  anniversary  of  the  coup  d'etat,  Louis  Napoleon 
made  his  public  entry,  as  Emperor,  into  Paris.  His 
arrival  was  greeted  with  the  acclamations  of  the  peo¬ 
ple,  the  national  guard,  and  the  army.  The  public 
proclamation  of  the  empire  was  made  at  the  Hotel  de 
Yilie  during  the  same  morning,  previously  to  his  arrival. 
To  the  congratulatory  addresses  from  the  senate  and  the 
legislative  corps,  his  Imperial  Majesty  made  the  follow¬ 
ing  reply  : 

“  Gentlemen The  new  reign  which  you  this  day  in¬ 
augurate  has  not  its  origin,  as  so  many  others  which 
history  records,  in  violence,  conquest,  or  intrigue ;  it 
is,  as  you  have  just  declared,  the  legal  result  of  the 
will  of  an  entire  people — what  it  had  founded  in  the 
midst  of  agitation. 

“  I  am  deeply  grateful  to  the  nation  which  three 
times  in  four  years  has  supported  me  by  its  suffrage, 
and  which  each  time  has  only  augmented  its  majority 
in  order  to  increase  my  power.  But  the  more  this 
power  gains  in  extent  and  in  vital  force,  the  more  need 
it  has  of  enlightened  men  like  those  whom  I  address,  to 
guide  me  by  their  counsels,  and  to  reduce  my  authority 
within  just  limits,  if  ever  it  should  transgress  them. 

“From,  this  day  I  take  with  the  crown  the  name  of 
Napoleon  HI.,  because  the  opinion  of  the  people  has 


THE  NEW  EMTEROr’s  INAUGURAL. 


417 


already  bestowed  it  on  me  in  their  acclamations,  be¬ 
cause  the  senate  has  legally  proposed  it,  and  because 
the  whole  nation  has  ratified  it. 

“Does  this,  however',  signify  that  in  taking  this  title, 
I  fall  into  the  error  imputed  to  the  prince  who,  return¬ 
ing  from  exile,  declared  all  that  had  been  done  in  his 
absence  null  and  void  ? 

“So  erroneous  a  notion  is  far  from  me.  Not  only  do 
I  recognize  the  governments  which  have  preceded  me, 
but  I  inherit  in  some  sort  what  they  have  accomplished 
of  good  and  evil ;  for  successive  governments,  notwith¬ 
standing  their  different  origin,  are  severally  bound  by 
the  acts  of  their  predecessors. 

“But  the  more  I  accept  that  which,  for  the  last  fifty 
years,  history  hands  down  to  us  with  its  inflexible 
authority,  the  less  was  it  allowed  me  t-o  pass  over  in 
silence  the  glorious  reign  of  the  chief  of  my  family, 
and  the  title,  regular  although  ephemeral,  of  his  son, 
which  the  chambers  proclaimed  with  the  last  outburst 
of  conquered  patriotism. 

“  Thus,  then,  the  title  of  Napoleon  III.  is  not  one  of 
those  dynastic  and  obsolete  pretensions  which  seem  an 
insult  alike  to  truth  and  common  sense  ;  it  is  the  hom¬ 
age  paid  to  a  government  which  was  legitimate,  and 
to  which  we  are  indebted  for  the  finest  pages  of  our 
modern  history.  My  reign  does  not  date  from  1815  ;  it 
dates  from  the  very  instant  that  you  have  communicated 
to  me  the  suffrages  of  the  nation. 

********* 

“And  here  receive  the  oath,  that  I  will  use  every 
exertion  to  assure  the  prosperity  of  this  country  ;  and 
that,  while  maintaining  peace,  I  will  yield  nothing 
which  affects  the  honor  and  dignity  of  France.” 

The  most  enthusiastic  cries  of  “Vive  F  Empereur,” 
“Vive  Napoleon  III.,”  followed  this  speech. 

The  senate  was  convened  the  next  day,  and  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  determine  the  civil  list  of  the  new  regime 
A  general  amnesty  relating  to  offenses  of  the  press,  and 
also  in  many  cases  to  political  offenses,  was  declared. 

IS* 


4i8  "  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  presumptive  inheritance  of  the  crown  was  settled 
upon  the  ex-King  Jerome  Bonaparte  and  his  family, 
who  bear  the  title  of  “  their  Imperial  Highnesses.” 
Prince  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  the  cousin  of  the  Emperor, 
was  appointed  viceroy  of  the  kingdom  of  Algeria. 

There  was  no  hesitation  on  the  part  of  foreign 
powers  to  acknowledge  the  empire.  The  acquies¬ 
cence  of  England  was  so  promptly  accorded  as  to 
excite  the  “most  vivid  satisfaction”  of  his  Imperial 
Majesty.  The  Pope  conveyed  to  the  Emperor  expres¬ 
sions  of  his  entire  satisfaction  with  the  new  order  of 
things. 

The  Emperor  submitted  to  the  senate  certain  amend¬ 
ments  to  the  last  constitution,  whereby  the  prerogatives 
of  granting  amnesties,  making  treaties,  decreeing  pub¬ 
lic  works,  and  the  right  of  ministers  to  vote  upon  the 
budget,  were  assured  to  him.  The  senate  ventured  on 
a  small  show’ of  independence,  by  hesitating  to  confirm 
the  proposed  modifications,  and  finally  appointed  a 
committee  to  wait  upon  his  Majesty.  This  committee 
used  every  argument  to  dissuade  him  from  his  deter¬ 
mination,  but  his  only  answer  was:  “So  the  senate 
wants  a  conflict,  for  form’s  sake.” 

To  give  eclat  to  the  Emperor’s  clemency,  Abd-el- 
Kader  was  permitted  to  come  to  Paris,  while  these 
first  days  of  the  restored  empire  were  elapsing.  He 
was  entertained  with  splendid  military  reviews,  and 
visits  to  all  places  of  interest  in  the  grand  capital. 
His  presence  in  public  excited  full  as  much  attention 
and  applause  as  did  that  of  the  Emperor.  Had  he 
been  able  to  speak  the  language,  he  would  have 
become  celebrated  for  the  readiness  and  piquancy  of 


THE  NEW  EMPKESS. 


419 


his  repartees.  One  day  lie  was  taken  to  Versailles, 
to  visit  the  palace  of  Louis  XIV.  His  hosts  avoided 
showing  him  the  rooms,  in  -which  is  the  series  of 
pictures  illustrating  the  war  in  Algiers.  lie,  however, 
insisted  on  seeing  them,  and  his  desire  was  gratified. 
He  said  nothing  till  he  came  to  the  splendid  painting 
by  Vernet,  representing  the  taking  of  the  tent  of  Abd- 
el-Kader.  He  then  quietly  observed:  “If  I  had  had 
painters  at  my  command,  I  should  have  ordered  pic¬ 
tures,  too!”  After  being  royally  entertained  at  Paris, 
he  sailed  on  the  21st  of  December  for  his  place  of 
exile  in  the  East. 

In  the  month  of  January,  1853,  Paris  was  taken  by 
surprise  on  the  announcement  of  the  expected  speedy 
marriage  of  the  Emperor.  The  negotiations  with  the 
royal  families  of  Europe,  if  they  ever  existed,  came  to 
an  unsuccessful  conclusion.  Either  the  charms  of  the 
lady,  or  the  sudden  discovery  of  a  more  profound  and 
useful  policy,  put  an  end  to  all  schemes  of  politico- 
matrimonial  arrangements,  and  Napoleon  III.  selected 
his  wife,  as  one  of  the  humblest  of  his  subjects  might 
have  done.  The  present  Empress  of  France  is  a 
Spanish  lady,  but  of  Irish  extraction,  her  family 
having  intermarried  with  the  noble  Spanish  house  of 
Palafox.  She  bore  the  name  of  Eugenie  de  Montejo, 
Countess  of  Teba.  She  possesses  rare  personal  at¬ 
tractions,  but  more  in  the  style  of  English  than  of 
Spanish  beauty.  Her  complexion  is  transparently 
fair,  her  features  regular  and  yet  full  of  expression. 
She  is  a  little  above  middle  stature,  with  manners 
extremely  winning,  and  at  the  time  of  her  marriage 
was  about  twenty-six  years  of  age.  With  brilliant 


420 


XOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  II  IS  TIMES. 


social  charms,  she  was  naturally  the  center  of  fashion 
in  the  gay  capital,  and  attracted  in  a  special  manner 
the  attentions  of  the  "new  Emperor.  His  proposals  to 
her  were  made  and  accepted  on  the  16th  of  January; 
and  on  the  following  day  the  fact  was  publicly 
announced.  One  immediate  consequence  was  the 
resignation  of  the  ministry.  The  resignations  were 
not,  however,  accepted. 

She  is  said  ever  to  have  been  quite  a  dashing,  ec¬ 
centric,  and  independent  young  lady,  and  has  all  her 
life  followed  the  dictates  of  her  own  fancy.  She  used 
frequently  to  be  observed  on  the  Prado,  at  Madrid,  in 
the  midst  of  the  fashionable  crowd,  in  a  simple  little 
carriage  drawn  by  two  ponies,  no  larger  than  dogs, 
and  which  she  drove  herself,  accompanied  by  her 
sister  or  friend,  and  with  some  noblemen  of  her  family 
on  a  very  small  seat  behind.  The  Queen  of  Spaindias 
been  seen  to  recognize  her  in  this  equipage.  Many 
piquant  anecdotes  are  told  of  her  free  and  rather 
unfeminine  conduct  in  both  Madrid  and  Paris.  In 
the  former  metropolis,  she  once  waited  on  an  actor  of 
the  French  theater,  with  the  somewhat  abrupt,  though 
dashing  and  sprightly  declaration  that  she  liked  him , 
and  would  learn  something  of  his  history  and  travels. 
She  insisted  that  he  should  take  a  seat  in  her  carriage. 
Remonstrance  would  not  avail.  Into  the  carriage  he 
did  get,  and  after  a  ride  of  four  hours  around  the  city, 
he  was  safely  landed  at  his  cafe ,  much  to  his  own 
astonishment,  and  her  amusement. 

On  the  22d  of  January  the  various  chief  function¬ 
aries  of  state  presented  themselves  at  the  Tuileries, 
to  receive  from  the  Emperor  the  announcement  of  his 


THE  EMPEROR  ON  HIS  MARRIAGE. 


421 


intended  marriage,  which  he  made  in  the  following 
speech  : 

“Messieurs:  I  yield  to  the  wish  so  often  manifested 
by  the  country,  in  coming  to  announce  to  you  my 
marriage. 

“The  alliance  which  I  contract,  is  not  in  accord  with 
the  traditions  of  ancient  policy,  and  therein  is  its 
advantage.  France,  by  its  successive  revolutions,  has 
ever  abruptly  separated  from  the  rest  of  Europe. 
Every  wise  government  ought  to  try  to  make  it  re¬ 
enter  into  the  pale  of  the  old  monarchies.  But  this  re¬ 
sult  will  be  more  surely  attained  by  a  straightforward 
and  frank  policy,  by  loyalty  in  conduct,  than  by  royal 
alliances,  which  create  a  false  security,  and  often  sub¬ 
stitute  family  interests  for  those  of  the  nation.  More¬ 
over,  the  example  of  the  past  has  left  in  the  mind  of 
the  people  superstitious  feelings.  It  has  not  forgotten 
that  for  seventy  years  foreign  princesses  have  mounted 
the  throne  but  to  behold  their  race  dispossessed  and 
proscribed  by  war  or  by  revolution. 

“One  woman  alone  seemed  to  bring  happiness,  and 
to  live  more  than  the  others  in  the  memory  of  the 
people  —  and  that  woman,  the  modest  and  good  wife  of 
Gen.  Bonaparte,  was  not  the  issue  of  royal  blood,  it 
must,  however,  be  admitted  that  in  1810  the  marriage 
of  Napoleon  I.  with  Marie  Louise  was  a  great  event. 
It  was  a  pledge  for  the  future,  a  real  satisfaction  to  the 
national  pride,  as  the  ancient  and  illustrious  branch 
of  the  house  of  Austria,  who  had  been  so  long  at  war 
with  us,  was  seen  to  solicit  the  alliance  of  the  elected 
chief  of  the  new  empire.  Under  the  last  reign,  on  the 
contrary,  the  amour  propre  of  the  country  had  to 
suffer,  when  the  heir  to  the  crown  solicited,  fruitlessly, 
during  several  years,  a  princely  alliance,  to  obtain  it 
only  in  a  secondary  rank,  and  in  a  different  religion. 

“  When  in  the  presence  of  old  Europe,  one  is  borne 
on  by  the  force  of  a  new  principle  to  the  height  of 
ancient  dynasties,  it  is  not  by  giving  an  ancient  char¬ 
acter  to  one’s  escutcheon,  ( envieillissant  son  Mason ,) 
and  by  seeking  to  introduce  oneself  at  all  costs  into  a 


422 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


family,  that  one  is  accepted.  It  is  rather  by  ever 
remembering  one’s  origin,  by  preserving  one’s  own 
character,  and  by  adopting  frankly,  in  presence  of 
Europe,  the  position  of  parvenu  —  a  glorious  title  when 
one  obtains  it  by  the  free  suffrages  of  a  great  people. 
Tlius,  obliged  to  depart  from  precedents  followed  to 
the  present  day,  my  marriage  became  a  private  affair, 
and  there  remained  only  the  choice  of  the  person. 

“She  who  has  been  the  object  of  my  preference  is 
of  distinguished  birth.  French  in  heart,  by  education, 
by  the  recollection  of  the  blood  shed  by  her  father  in 
the  cause  of  the  empire,  she  has,  as  a  Spaniard,  the  ad¬ 
vantage  of  not  having  in  France  a  family  to  whom  it 
might  be  necessary  to  give  honors  and  fortune.  En¬ 
dowed  with  all  the  qualities  of  the  mind,  she  will  be 
the  ornament  of  the  throne ;  in  the  day  of  danger  she 
would  be  one  of  its  courageous  supporters.  A  Catholic, 
she  will  address  to  heaven  the  same  prayers  with  me 
for  the  happiness  of  France.  In  fine,  by  her  grace  and 
her  goodness,  she  will,  I  have  the  firm  hope,  endeavor 
to  revive,  in  the  same  position,  the  virtues  of  the 
Empress  Josephine. 

“I  come,  then,  Messieurs,  to  announce  to  France  that 
I  have  preferred  the  woman  whom  I  love  and  whom  I 
respect,  to  one  who  is  unknown,  and  wdiose  alliance 
would  have  had  advantages  mixed  with  sacrifices. 
Without  disdaining  any  one,  I  yet  yield  to  my  inclina¬ 
tions,  but  after  having  taken  counsel  from  my  reason  and 
my  convictions.  In  fine,  by  placing  the  independence, 
the  qualities  of  the  heart,  domestic  happiness,  above 
dynastic  prejudices  and  the  calculations  of  ambition, 
I  shall  not  be  the  less  strong  because  I  shall  be  more  free. 

“Soon  proceeding  to  Notre  Dame  I  shall  present  the 
Empress  to  the  people  and  to  the  army  ;  the  confidence 
they  have  in  me  assures  me  of  their  sympathy,  and  you, 
Messieurs,  on  learning  better  to  appreciate  her  whom 
I  have  chosen,  you  will  allow  that  on  this  occasion  also 
I  have  been  inspired  by  Providence.” 

The  civil  marriage  was  celebrated  at  the  palace  of 
the  Tuileries  on  the  29th  of  January,  and  the  religious. 


CELEBRATION  OF  TIIE  MARRIAGE. 


423 


ceremonies  took  place  the  next  day,  which  was  Sunday, 
at  the  church  of  Notre  Dame.  At  an  early  hour  in 
the  morning  all  Paris  was  astir,  to  witness  one  of  those 
displays  which  have  so  often  appeared  to  compensate 
the  French  for  the  loss  of  their  liberties.  The  description 
of  the  scene  is  given  in  the  words  of  an  eye-witness  : 

“  Shortly  after  9  o’clock,  large  bodies  of  cavalry  and 
infantry  were  to  be  seen  directing  their  way  from  the 
different  barracks  in  and  around  Paris  toward  the  point 
allotted  to  them  on  the  route  between  the  palace  of  the 
Elysee,  and  between  the  latter  and  the  cathedral  of 
Notre  Dame.  At  the  same  time  the  whole  of  the  na¬ 
tional  guards  of  Paris  were  called  out  for  the  purpose 
of  doing  honor  to  the  day,  by  forming  the  line  on  one 
side  of  the  streets  through  which  the  procession  was  to 
pass,  wdiile  the  infantry  of  the  line  formed  the  other. 
A  vast  number  of  deputations  of  the  trades  and  work¬ 
people  were  to  be  seen  with  flags  and  banners  directing 
their  steps  toward  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries,  which 
was  the  spot  specially  set  aside  for  that  purpose.  Many 
of  the  deputations  were  very  picturesque,  consisting  as 
they  did  of  young  women  dressed  in  white,  adorned 
with  wreaths  of  flowers,  and  carrying  boquets  in  their 
hands. 

“A  wooden  structure  was  raised,  in  three  com¬ 
partments,  over  the  grand  entrance  and  the  two  side 
doors,  and  painted  in  the  fashion  of  the  medieval  ages, 
to  match  the  character  of  the  building.  Green  pre¬ 
dominated  in  the  decorations,  that  being  the  color  of 
the  Emperor,  and  the  letters  ‘N.  E.’  were  to  be  seen 
in  various  places,  in  honor  of  the  imperial  couple. 
Above  the  wooden  erection,  long  draperies  of  green 
velvet  floated  to  the  wind,  and  higher  up,  along  the 
facade  of  the  building,  was  to  be  seen  a  line  of  flags 
of  various  colors  ;  higher  still,  the  old  towers  themselves 
were  covered  with  gold  brocade.  The  effect  was  unusu¬ 
ally  rich  ;  and  as  the  weather  was  dry,  though  cold,  the 
pleasure  of  regarding  these  precious  materials,  thus 
exposed  to  the  open  air,  was  not  marred  by  any 


424 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


apprehension  of  injury  from  rain.  The  lower  part  of  the 
decorations  near  the  various  entrances,  was  hung  with 
crimson  velvet,  edged  with  gold  lace. 

“The  first  feeling  of  the  spectator  on  entering  was  one 
of  unmixed  admiration.  Along  the  whole  of  the  nave 
was  suspended  from  the  arched  roof  an  absolute  forest 
of  chandeliers,  containing  thousands  of  wax  lights. 
The  pillars  were  enveloped,  from  plinth  to  capital,  with 
crimson  velvet.  At  the  top  of  each  capital  was  affixed 
a  richly  gilt  shield,  bearing  a  gilt  eagle.  Between  the 
pillars,  springing  from  the  arches,  higher  up,  was  to  be 
seen  a  drapery  of  crimson  velvet,  edged  down  the  sides 
with  an  imitation  of  ermine,  and  fringed  at  the  bottom 
with  deep  gold  lace ;  this  drapery  served  to  mask  the 
wood-work  of  a  long  line  of  galleries,  erected  from  pil¬ 
lar  to  pillar,  and  filled  with  elegantly  dressed  ladies. 
Again,  higher  up,  a  pallium  of  green  velvet,  studded 
with  golden  stars,  was  seen  between  every  two  pillars, 
and  bearing  in  its  center  a  gigantic  ‘  A.’  Garlands  of 
flowers  were  festooned  among  these  draperies,  and  other 
shields  were  placed  on  the  fiat  wall  of  the  building,  under 
the  lofty  windows,  each  having  on  it  a  figure  of  Our 
Lady,  to  whom  the  cathedral  is  dedicated.  The  crim¬ 
son  velvet  on  the  pillars  next  to  the  nave,  had  no  other 
ornament  than  an  edging  of  gold  lace  under  the  capital 
of  each  ;  but  those  of  the  side  aisles  were  studded  with 
golden  stars,  and  bore  the  letter  ‘N’  in  front.  Three 
chandeliers,  one  large  one,  and  two  smaller,  gave  light 
to  each  tribune  above;  and  three  ranges  of  immense 
lustres  of  beautifully  cut  glass,  ran  down  the  center  of 
the  nave.  At  the  eastern  end  of  the  building  the  chan¬ 
cel  had  been  cut  off  from  the  ceremony  by  the  erection 
of  a  temporary  altar  just  where  the  transepts  leave  the 
choir.  Above  the  altar  rose  a  lofty  canopy  of  crimson 
velvet,  lined,  to  all  appearance,  with  ermine,  and  sur¬ 
mounted  with  a  gilt  eagle  of  immense  size.  Between 
this  canopy  and  the  altar,  was  to  be  seen  a  sort  of  taber¬ 
nacle  in  the  Byzantine  style,  wffiich  extended  at  each 
side  to  the  transepts,  and  thus  formed  a  screen,  shutting 
out  the  chancel  and  its  side  aisles.  But  though  the 
building  was  cut  into  two  unequal  parts,  the  portion 


THE  MARRIAGE  CEREMONY. 


425 


not  occupied  by  the  ceremony  was  by  no  means  lost, 
as  immense  chandeliers  bung  from  the  roof  in  that  part 
of  the  church,  just  the  same  as  in  that  appropriated  to 
the  spectators.  The  consequence  of  this  illumination 
was,  that  as  the  temporary  screen  broke  the  distance, 
and  rendered  the  view  uncertain,  the  lines  of  lights 
appeared  absolutely  interminable,  and  the  general  ef¬ 
fect  was  infinitely  enhanced. 

“  About  12-1  o’clock,  some  of  the  deputy  chamberlains 
of  the  palace  appeared  in  their  scarlet  uniforms,  and 
immediately  the  drums  beat  a  salute  and  the  trumpets 
sounded  a  flourish.  Marshal  Valliant  entered  the  mo¬ 
ment  after,  and  then  came  a  number  of  ladies  in  dresses 
of  the  brightest  colors  and  the  richest  materials. 

“  The  clergy  then  proceeded  down  the  aisle,  with  the 
Archbishop  of  Paris  at  their  head,  to  meet  the  Emperor 
and  the  Empress.  At  five  minutes  to  one,  the  Emperor 
and  Empress  arrived,  and  having  been  ottered  the 
morsel  of  the  true  cross  to  kiss  by  the  archbishop,  four 
ecclesiastics  held  a  rich  dais  over  the  imperial  pair,  and 
the  procession  advanced  up  the  church.  Marshal  Mag- 
nan  and  the  Duke  de  Bassan'g  led  the  way,  followed  by 
Marshal  de  St.  Arnaud  and  the  Duke  de  Cambaceres. 
Then  came  the  Emperor,  leading  the  Empress  by  the 
hand,  he  advancing  on  the  right.  The  Empress  was 
exceedingly  pale,  but  perfectly  composed.  She  looked 
neither  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  and  advanced  stead¬ 
ily.  She  wore  a  dress  of  white,  velvet.  A  vail  flowed 
from  underneath  the  small  crown  sparkling  with  dia¬ 
monds.  The  front  of  her  dress  and  the  basque  behind 
also  shone  with  the  same  rich  ornaments.  The  Empe¬ 
ror  was  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  a  general  officer,  lie 
had  on  the  "rand  collar  of  the  Leg-ion  of  Honor  which 
had  belonged  to  Napoleon,  and  the  collar  of  the  Golden 
Fleece,  which  had  been  suspended  from  the  neck  of 
Charles  V.,  and  which  the  Queen  of  Spain  had  sent  to 
him.  The  Emperor  looked  uncommonly  well — in  high 
spirits  and  good  health. 

“The  cortege  returned  to  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries 
in  the  same  order  as  it  went  to  Notre  Dame  ;  but,  in¬ 
stead  of  following  the  streets,  it  came  along  the  quay, 


420 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


as  far  as  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  and  entered  the 
palace  by  the  grand  entrance  to  the  garden  of  the 
Tuileries.  The  deputations,  drawn  up  in  the  gardens, 
were  respectful  but  not  warm  in  their  salutations.” 

The  Emperor  signalized  his  marriage  by  pardoning 
four  thousand  three  hundred  and  twelve  persons,  who 
vere  suffering  banishment  or  imprisonment  for  political 
offenses  ;  but  the  list  embraced  the  names  of  no  men 
of  prominence,  and  by  its  extent,  evinced  the  actual 
rigor  by  which  his  rule  had  been  previously  marked. 
All  the  banished  generals,  and  the  men  of  note,  who 
were  proscribed  after  the  events  of  December  1851, 
are  still  under  the  ban.  The  Empress  gained  large 
accessions  of  esteem  and  popularity  by  his  liberality. 
The  city  of  Paris  desired  to  present  her  with  a  superb 
necklace,  valued  at  six  hundred  thousand  francs.  This 
present  she  declined,  and  at  her  request,  the  municipal 
council  devoted  the  money  to  the  foundation  of  a  school 
for  poor  girls,  to  be  under  her  special  patronage.  A 
quarter  of  a  million  of  francs,  which  her  husband 
placed  at  her  disposal,  she  also  devoted  in  charity. 

The  legislative  assembly  met  on  the  14th  of  February. 
In  his  speech  at  the  opening,  after  relating  the  prosper¬ 
ous  and  tranquil  state  of  the  nation,  the  Emperor  said  : 

“  These  results  have  not  cost  great  efforts,  because 
they  were  in  the  minds  and  for  the  interests  of  all.  To 
those  who  would  doubt  their  importance,  I  will  reply, 
that  scarcely  fourteen  months  ago  France  was  delivered 
up  to  the  hazards  of  anarchy.  To  those  who  regret 
that  a  wider  field  has  not  been  given  to  liberty,  I  will 
reply,  that  liberty  has  never  aided  in  founding  a  dura¬ 
ble  political  edifice ;  it  crowns  it  when  it  has  been 
consolidated  by  time.  Let  us,  besides,  not  forget  that 
the  immense  majority  of  the  country  has  confidence 


CONDITION  OF  THE  COUNTRY. 


427 


in  the  present  and  faith  in  the  future  ;  there  still  re¬ 
main  incorrigible  individuals,  who,  forgetful  of  their 
own  experience,  of  their  past  errors,  and  of  their  dis¬ 
appointments,  obstinately  persist  in  paying  no  attention 
to  the  national  will,  deny  the  reality  of  tacts,  and  in 
the  midst  of  a  sea  which  every  day  grows  more  tran¬ 
quil,  call  for  tempests,  in  which  they  would  be  the  first 
to  be  swallowed  up.  These  secret  proceedings  of  the 
different  parties  serve  no  purpose  but  to  show  their 
■weakness,  and  the  government,  instead  of  being  dis¬ 
turbed  at  them,  only  thinks  of  governing  France  and 
tranquilizing  Europe.” 

The  condition  of  the  country,  under  the  stability  of  a 
government  usurping  and  despotic  as  it  is,  is  beyond 
question,  highly  prosperous.  The  public  revenues  have 
increased,  and  the  financial  condition  of  the  state  is 
better  than  it  has  been  for  the  last  twenty  years.  By 
the  firm  determination  of  the  Emperor,  and  the  earnest 
cooperation  of  the  assembly,  the  expenditures  have 
been  brought,  in  the  estimates,  within  the  limits  of  the 
national  income,  a  rare  occurrence  in  French  financier¬ 
ing.  Large  reductions  have  been  made  in  the  line  of 
the  army,  and  every  indication  of  a  peaceful  intention 
is  given  by  the  Emperor.  A  saying  attributed  to  him 
touching  his  feelings  toward  England  is  in  point  here. 
An  English  nobleman  was  recently  driving  with  him 
toward  Compiegne,  and  desirous  of  surprising  him 
into  a  candid  answer,  abruptly  asked  him,  if  he  really 
thought  of  invading  England.  To  this  rather  imperti¬ 
nent  question,  Louis’  reply  was:  “I  have  no  such 
intention  unless  you  force  me  to  it ;  but  from  what  I 
6ee  and  hear  of  your  democratic  spirit  in  England,  I 
think  it  very  likely  that  I  shall  have  to  go  over  some 
day,  and  help  your  Queen.”  My  lord  was  compelled 
to  pocket  the  rejoinder. 


428 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


There  is  no  doubt,  though  on  some  accounts  we  may 
be  very  much  surprised  at  such  a  result,  that  the  gov¬ 
ernment  of  Louis  Napoleon  is  decidedly  and  generally 
popular  in  France.  Yet  this  fact  does  not  imply  that 
there  is  any  hearty  and  extensive  enthusiasm  either  for 
the  government  or  for  the  man.  His  reign  is  acqui¬ 
esced  in,  not  merely  because  he  has  at  command  the 
physical  power  to  coerce  submission,  but  because  there 
is  a  general  and  deliberate  conviction,  that  the  man 
and  his  system  are  best  suited  to  the  actual  position, 
if  not  to  the  habitual  character  of  the  nation.  The 
great  mass  are  satisfied  with  the  empire,  because  its 
chief  bears  the  name  of  Napoleon,  and  because  they 
have  experienced  the  necessity  of  quiet  and  steadiness 
in  national  affaire,  in  order  to  their  personal  prosperity. 
The  priests  throughout  the  country  are  zealous  and 
efficient  supporters  of  the  Emperor.  The  extreme 
republicans,  and  the  men  who  have  held  prominent 
positions  under  previous  administrations,  are  naturally 
hostile  to  the  present  state  of  things.  But  the  imperial 
regime  is  popular  with  all  those  who  long  for  repose, 
and  even  with  the  more  active  politicians  who  feel  with 
deep  anxiety  that  Louis  Napoleon  has  no  rival ;  that  if 
he  were  now  cut  off  he  could  have  no  successor ;  that 
between  him  and  anarchy  at  present  lies  no  third  al¬ 
ternative.  He  has  undoubtedly  strengthened  his  posi¬ 
tion  by  the  assumption  of  the  purple.  He  appears  not 
so  much  like  an  adventurer,  who  has  trampled  upon 
the  liberties  of  his  country.  He  has  gathered  around 
his  person  those  memories  of  the  Great  Napoleon, 
which  are  so  precious  to  the  glory-loving  French, 
and  which  invest  with  a  bewildering  splendor  the 


POSITION  OF  THE  EMPEROR. 


429 


individual  who  by  any  art  can  connect  them  with  him¬ 
self.  Yet  he  is  occasionally  reminded  how  adventitious 
and  uncertain  is  his  reputation,  and  how  slight  is  his 
personal  popularity.  But  lately  he  appeared  without 
previous  notice  and  arrangement  at  the  Italian  opera, 
where,  in  consequence  of  the  absence  of  his  retained 
admirers,  his  reception  was  cold  to  a  mortifying  degree. 
The  presence  of  the  Empress  even  did  not  awaken  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  audience. 

A  republican  demonstration,  such  as  has  never  been 
attempted  since  the  coup  d'etat,  took  place  in  Paris 
not  long  after  the  Emperor’s  marriage,  when  a  body 
of  nearly  twenty  thousand  men  assembled  and  inarched 
in  procession  as  a  cortege  of  the  funeral  of  Madame 
Raspail,  wife  of  the  celebrated  state-prisoner  of  that 
name.  A  detachment  of  cavalry  and  a  great  force  of 
Sergens  de  Ville  prevented  any  speeches  over  the 
grave.  The  proceedings  were  conducted  with  perfect 
quietness.  This  immense  line  of  men,  five  deep, 
marched  with  bare  heads  and  in  solemn  silence  past 
the  columns  of  Liberty  on  the  Place  de  la  Bastille. 
This  demonstration  shows  the  great  influence  still 
exercised  by  Raspail  as  a  republican  leader. 

The  rigor  of  the  Emperor’s  rule  by  no  means  abates, 
as  he  finds  himself  in  the  high  place  he  has  so  long 
coveted.  A  free  press  is  no  longer  known.  Religious 
liberty  cannot  be  recognized  in  the  mere  shadow  of 
toleration  which  exists.  Still  he  acquires  some  credit 
as  at  intervals  he  continues  to  exercise  his  clemency 
toward  political  offenders.  His  frequent  declarations 
of  his  desire  for  peace  are  still  confirmed  by  his  ac¬ 
tions  *  and  herein  he  evinces  the  restraint  which  a  wise 


430 


LOUIS  NArOLEON  AND  IIIS  TIMES. 


policy  holds  over  his  ambition,  for  certainly  in  the 
event  of  a  war  the  generals  who  might  lead  his  armies 
would  gain  the  glory  of  success.  To  a  deputation  of 
English  merchants,  who  in  the  latter  part  of  March 
presented  him  an  address  in  which  they  assured  him 
of  the  friendly  feeling  of  the  English  people  toward 
his  government,  he  replied  — “  Like  you  I  desire  peace  ; 
and  to  make  it  sure,  I  wish,  like  you,  to  draw  closer 
the  bonds  which  unite  our  two  countries.” 

The  Emperor  has  not  secured  the  support  of  his 
former  rival  Cavaignac.  A  late  characteristic  anecdote 
of  the  latter  is  thus  related.  Bergere,  the  prefect  of  the 
Seine,  met  him  at  the  horticultural  exhibition,  and  raised 
his  hat ;  the  general  responded  to  the  courtesy  with  a 
frigid  stiffness.  “But,”  said  the  prefect,  approach¬ 
ing  him  more  nearly,  and  mingling  cordiality  with 
deprecation  in  his  tones,  “  General  Cavaignac’s  services 
to  society,  and  his  varied  worth,  command  a  respect 
and  esteem,  the  expression  of  which  ought  not  to  be 
affected  by  a  difference  in  political  opinions.”  “It 
is  not  a  simple  difference  of  opinion  between  us,”  re¬ 
plied  the  ex-dictator,  “we  belong  to  different  camps.” 
Cavaignac  was  born  of  a  republican  father  and  a  re¬ 
publican  mother.  He  will  never  belie  his  birth.  He 
is  one  of  the  few  public  men  of  France  who  could 
surprise  us  by  an  act  of  inconsistency. 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  character  of  Louis 
Napoleon,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  he  is  a  man  of  re¬ 
markable  ability.  He  has  shown  the  utmost  self-pos¬ 
session,  firmness,  courage  and  prudence  during  his 
administration.  He  began  his  career  amid  the  scoff’s 
of  Europe,  and  now  his  movements  are  watched  with 


THE  EMPEROR’S  CHARACTER. 


431 


an  intense  interest  which  indicates  a  full  recognition 
of  his  capacity  and  his  power.  lie  possesses,  in  an 
eminent  degree,  that  promptness  in  decision,  that  in¬ 
flexibility  of  purpose,  and  that  energy  in  the  execution 
of  his  designs,  that  seems  to  be  the  indestructible 
inheritance  of  his  race.  In  the  measures  he  took  to 
mount  the  imperial  throne,  there  was  nothing  to  ex¬ 
cite  the  just  indignation  of  the  world,  as  was  the  case 
with  the  reckless  barbarity  which  consummated  the 
coup  d'etat.  In  the  last  stage  of  his  ambitious  prog¬ 
ress,  the  emotion  most  readily  awakened  is  pity  for  the 
weakness  of  the  French  people.  He,  especially  in  his 
speeches,  displayed  great  skill,  profound  appreciation 
of  the  national  tastes,  and  that  sententious  aptness  in 
the  presentation  of  a  popular  idea  which  is  a  peculiar 
merit  of  French  eloquence.  Yet  the  charm  of  origi¬ 
nality  is  taken  away  when  we  think  we  perceive  a 
decided,  though  it  be  a  quite  successful  effort  to  imi¬ 
tate  the  style  of  his  uncle.  Ilis  strategy  in  politics, 
from  the  boldness  and  breadth  of  purpose  and  the 
close  devotion  to  details  which  mark  it,  reminds  one 
of  the  military  strategy  of  the  great  Emperor.  It  may 
be  there  is  a  mental  similarity  between  the  two,  which 
time  will  develop  in  bolder  relief  to  the  surprise  of  all 
who  have  observed  the  career  of  the  nephew.  It  is 
hazardous  to  conjecture  any  thing  respecting  French 
affairs.  They  are  a  people  who  put  at  fault  the  most 
trained  political  sagacity.  While  the  assertion  of  the 
Emperor  is  false,  “that  liberty  has  never  aided  in  found¬ 
ing  a  durable  political  edifice,” — a  sentiment  which 
no  statesman,  but  one  whose  ideas  of  liberty  were 
formed  exclusively  from  a  study  of  French  history, 


432 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


would  venture  to  utter  —  it  remains  one  of  the  inter¬ 
esting  mysteries  of  the  future  —  interesting,  because 
involving  the  political  destiny  of  the  millions  of 
continental  Europe  ■ —  whether  he  will  redeem  his 
implied  pledge,  to  crown  the  structure  of  his  vast  im¬ 
perial  power  with  the  blessing  of  national  liberty. 
We  fear  that  he  will  not. 


University  Libraries 


D01 128166P 


